An Unexpected Plot Twist
by MusicalsandMordred
Summary: What happens when a young girl (who may or may not be this author) wakes up in the forest of her favourite TV show, and her favourite character runs in? What will she do? Will she save those who need saving? What will change? Will she ever get back to her time? Rated M for some stronger language
1. Pond Crossing

**Author's spiel: Hello everyone! This is my very first story here and I am super excited. I was planning on doing a Snobaz oneshot I have planned first, but I haven't written that one yet, and I have finished this one, and I just got bored today and wanted to post. So. Yeah...**

 **A couple of things: my main character may or may not basically be me. I leave decisions of how much she is me or not up to you. Also, like I said, I've already pretty much finished this story. It is not a oneshot, however, so I will be posting a chapter (or more if they're short) a week, probably on Fridays because that's when I have time. I suspect I'll likely do this with all my multi-chapter fics - the whole post-and-have-people-anxious-for-the-next-installment thing kind of stresses me out, and I have enough stress in my life. And just one last thing...**

 ***I AM WARNING YOU NOW* This story is literally all fluff (mostly romance and angst, and a whole heck of a lot of talking.) If that isn't your thing...then I'm sorry. I just don't want to have people read this (if people read this) and expect something that isn't going to happen. I wrote this solely for my enjoyment and wish-fulfillment, and if people chose to read it and like it, that's even better. If you don't...well, just be nice about it ok?**

 **Reviews and comments would certainly be appreciated; like I said, I'm super excited I'm finally doing this!**

 **I don't own Merlin or Mordred or anything like that.**

* * *

 _1_

 _Pond Crossing_

 _I was at my wit's end. I shifted in my seat and glanced at the screen. I glanced away. I glanced back at it, only to find the same tiny, airplane TV unchanged and glaring back at me. I looked over at my travel companions. Mom was asleep, occasionally letting loose a loud snore, and Colin was engrossed with his videos on his computer. They would not be providing any relief. I envied them their diversions. This plane ride was going to be the death of me!_

 _"It's worth it," I told myself, "London! You'll get to see the things you didn't the first time around!" My stomach gave a violent twist. The toxic mix of excitement and nerves brought some life back into me after five very long hours of sitting on this plane._

 _"There's only three hours left! Surely you could fill them with something on the TV…" That did it! I gave in to temptation and turned the evil screen on. I tried to put off watching TV on planes because it only made a person more tired. I reserved it for a last resort kind of thing._

 _While the screen was warming up, I rummaged around in my bag to find my headphones. With them in hand, I sat back up and scrolled through the choices for something to watch. Nothing inspired me in the movie section, so I thought I'd take a gander at the TV shows. They usually didn't have anything good, but perhaps my horseshoes would help me out._

 _I scrolled through, and then did a double take. Oh thank the television gods above! I also sent a brief message of thanks to my horseshoes. This was better than sleep or YouTube any day!_

 _"_ _Merlin_ _," I breathed. Yes, the amazing TV show itself, and probably my favourite one (I'm sorry OUAT!) was on the airplane TV. This was probably my third or fourth time watching it over. I couldn't really explain my love for that show. When I really, really liked something, I got what could be called obsessive and freaky about it. I didn't think about anything else, and nothing less than the entire product itself would satisfy. This happened a lot with musicals and movies and books, but I'd never really gotten into a TV show like that, before_ _Merlin_ _, that is! It was such a good story, a well-known story (the King Arthur legend, with a fresh twist!) and with such fabulous characters and actors too. Perhaps that was why I adored it so much._

 _Anyway, I scrolled through the episodes to find where I had last watched. Ah, there we were! Season 5, Episode 10, right after_ _With All My Heart_ _, an episode I repeatedly watched when in need of a_ _Merlin_ _fix. It had the perfect amount of humour and romance, had an altercation with Morgana and Aithusa, some Percival near the beginning, and a lovely amount of Mordred being all noble. Episode 10 was the episode with the Druid sorceress Finna. It was a good episode, but it made me sad, because I knew what was coming._

 _If you're at all familiar with the legends of King Arthur, then the name Mordred should also ring a bell. He was the one who mortally wounded Arthur at the battle of Camlann, and I adored him. I adored him_ _too much_ _, because he started off good, but wound up becoming evil and killing Arthur, whom I also adored. But what could I say? The heart wanted what the heart wanted, and for some reason, my heart liked the villains!_

 _I watched the Episode 10, and the next two, gladly and without interruption (minus the pilot's announcement as the credits of Episode 12 rolled that we were starting our descent!) I figured I had enough time to watch Episode 13, even though I knew what that would do to me. I watched it anyway. When Arthur stabbed Mordred, the tears came, like they did every time I watched it. I put my head in my hands, hoping nobody would notice my tears. I didn't like crying in public, and crying over a TV show was just embarrassing! Mordred's death though…God, it was just so preventable! I knew that in the legends, he was just supposed to be evil and messed up, and that it was only the different take on the legends that_ _Merlin_ _had chosen that made him good in the first place. Still, if Mordred was a real person, I figured I would risk life and limb to save him. He held a special place in my heart, partly because I felt I could identify with him in some small way. The other part was because the actor who played him was incredibly smoking hot, but that was beside the point!_

 _I felt a hand on my shoulder, and looked up into Mom's concerned face._

 _"What's wrong sweetie? Are you ok?"_

 _I nodded and wiped my eyes. "Sorry. I found_ _Merlin_ _on the TV and Mordred died…" I didn't add 'again' but I knew Mom was thinking it. She and Colin just didn't understand my repetition thing! Mom sighed, leaning back into her seat. Within moments, she was asleep again. I finished the episode, then closed my eyes. I wasn't trying to sleep (I knew a futile mission when I thought of one!) but I was hoping that with closed eyelids, Excalibur running Mordred through would stop replaying in my mind. No such luck. It just made it easier to picture the heartbroken smile on Mordred's face as he died. I felt a sob building up, but I choked it back down. No sense in making myself look crazier than I already was!_

* * *

 _By the time the plane had landed and we had gotten off, I was worn and tired. It was shortly after noon in London, but with the time change and my sleepless flight, who knew what time I was actually running on. We dragged our tired feet to a cab, and then from the cab to the hotel room. The rest of the day was spent planning the upcoming day and the next couple of days after, and eating. When night finally rolled around, everyone turned in blissfully early._

 _After I'd gone through my pre-sleep routine, I lay down on my bed and stared up at the ceiling. As tired as I was, I wasn't ready to close my eyes just yet. Mordred's death scene from the episode on the plane was still haunting me, which was really bugging me out! I'd watched that scene at least twenty times (counting YouTube videos and stuff) but it had never affected me like this before. Maybe it was just because I was over tired, but I didn't know._

 _I sang songs in my head until I was so tired I couldn't remember the lyrics to even the ones from_ _Wicked_ _. Then, finally, I allowed myself to close my eyes. Thankfully, no death scenes of favourite characters greeted me. I breathed a sigh of relief and sunk into a deep sleep._


	2. First Encounters (of an uncertain kind?)

_2_

 _First Encounters (…of an uncertain kind?)_

 _Ouch! Something was poking me in the back! I rolled over, accompanied by a crunching sound and an outdoorsy smell. Puzzled, I opened my eyes. What I found certainly did not ease my confusion._

 _"What the-?" I was lying in a forest. A forest with towering trees and moss covered rocks, the whole shebang. Sunlight streamed down in dappled, green spots. It was misty and a little chilly. I sat up, totally focussed on my surroundings until I looked down. I was no longer wearing my pajamas. In their place, I wore a medieval-looking dress, green and grey in colour. Not as glamorous as what a princess might wear, I thought, but nicer than a peasant's clothing. I also wore a large, blue-grey cloak of coarse material. The hood covered my face nicely, and probably protected my hair from all sorts of nasty forest things. It was amazing… astounding… and it_ _had_ _to be a dream! There was no other explanation! Fearful of becoming a cliché, but also wanting to resolve this, I pinched my arm. The forest still surrounded me. I waited a couple more minutes and then tried again, but it was the same result. I remained in the forest._

 _After that, I wandered around, picking up things, touching the bark and the leaves and the plants. I figured, eventually, some sense would be triggered and I would wake up. Until then, I walked. As I walked about, I had the strange feeling that this forest was familiar. But that was absurd! I can assure you that I didn't spend an excess amount of time in any_ _real_ _forests! Be that as it may, the forest was familiar, I was sure of it! I walked on, the sense of familiarity growing with every step I took. Suddenly, I heard voices and fast-paced footsteps. Through the mossy trunks of the trees, I could see a path. Intrigued and a little scared, I crouched behind some ferns to watch._

 _A person wearing a cloak similar to mine came barreling into my sight. It appeared to be another girl, with an injury to her leg! Something in the back of my mind prodded my memory at the sight of her. A familiar forest, a familiar girl, an injured leg…She fell painfully, drawing my attention back to her in the present. I was contemplating whether I should go help her up, when another person ran in, sword drawn and shining through the mist. At the sight of him, I nearly fainted!_

 _It was Mordred._

 _Mordred! My Mordred! The Mordred from_ _Merlin_ _whose death scene I couldn't watch without breaking down! I stared in wonder, in disbelief, but there he was, standing not five feet away from me. And if the boy was Mordred, then that would make the injured girl…_

" _Kara!" Mordred hissed. His voice sent shivers up my spine, entirely familiar, but never heard so clearly before. Kara stared up at him, almost as shocked by his appearance as I was. "Go Kara, GO!" She scrambled away from him, but not before I could hear other footsteps approaching. Even before I turned around, I knew I would see Merlin, the great warlock himself, staring at Mordred with undisguised suspicion. I felt sick to my stomach. Merlin had been right about a great deal of things throughout the course of his run on the BBC, but mistrusting Mordred was not one of them. Technically, it was 'right', because Mordred would eventually turn on Arthur, but Merlin's distrust was one of the main reasons for that betrayal. Mordred stared back helplessly at the other man's suspicion. He seemed younger than he had been in the show, twenty at most. Only 4 years older than me!_

 _The rest of the approaching footsteps drew closer. Despite my knowledge of how this all played out, I was still floored to see Arthur and the other knights (Leon, Percival, and Gwaine) running towards them._

" _Everything alright?" Arthur asked. Mordred nodded._

" _I thought I saw someone, but I was wrong. Just a deer."_

" _Are you sure?"_

" _Yes." Mordred managed to sound certain, even though he wouldn't meet anyone's eyes. Arthur paused for a moment more._

" _Alright then. Move out!" He and the other three headed back towards the dead knights and their horses that I knew were in a clearing not far off. Merlin and Mordred stayed standing there for a second longer, and I remained watching them. In that moment, it seemed that time stood still._

 _What had just occurred in front of me was word for word,_ _exactly_ _, from Episode 11 that I'd watched earlier today,_ _The Drawing of the Dark_ _! It was a crucial episode in that Mordred and Merlin made all the decisions that would determine the outcome of the battle of Camlann. The girl that Mordred had just let go? Kara? He was in love with her, and though he tried to help her and prevent harm from coming to her, Arthur discovered them and was forced by law and his own moral compass to condemn Kara to an execution. The only problem with that? It turned Mordred against him forever. I'd spent a large amount of time lamenting how fixable the situation was, if only dealt with sooner. I had the means, the knowledge. And I had the situation right in front of me! I made a spur-of-the-moment decision (although you wouldn't think it with the size of this paragraph) and lept out of the bushes and onto the path._

 _Both men started. Mordred brandished his sword, looking quite breathtaking while doing it. Naturally, my breath caught._

" _Who are you?" Merlin asked. I took another step forward and let my hood fall about my shoulders. Mordred's sword point dipped, his eyes softened, and his mouth dropped open. We stared at each other for a good two minutes. I didn't even notice Merlin's reaction. I only had eyes for Mordred. But then I remembered why I had revealed myself in the first place._

" _Please," I said, raising my arms to show I had no weapons, "I mean no harm. I am here to help prevent a great tragedy." That peaked their curiosity, if not totally dissolved their suspicion._

 _Mordred sheathed his sword and asked, walking up towards me, "What tragedy do you speak of?"_

" _Arthur's death. I know what you must do to prevent it from happening." 'And your death,' I added in my head, 'and the deaths of countless others.' Merlin looked at me with surprise. I saw his eyes slide to the back of Mordred's head, and knew I must speak to him alone about what was to happen. Mordred could only know so much about his own destiny! Speaking of Mordred, he was still looking at me with a trace of suspicion and doubt._

" _Why should we believe you?"_

 _I took a deep breath. "I am a seer," the words rolled off my tongue easily enough, "I have seen what is to pass. The girl you saved today, Mordred?" he flinched visibly when I said his name, "Kara? She will die unless you do as I say. And if she dies, so will Arthur and many others!" That was enough for Mordred. He would do anything for Kara. Merlin was staring at me, no doubt trying to piece together what I meant. He no longer looked wary, but just to confirm that they could trust me, I added, "I know both of you are sorcerers. I know what you have gone through in the past, against Morgana and many other threats to Arthur and Camelot," I looked mostly at Merlin as I said this, "I know the goodness in your hearts, and in that of your king's. I would not see him, or any of you, die!" And, now I had them. They both nodded._

" _Well spoken, seer," Mordred replied, "We will…"_

" _MERLIN!" An angry cry came from down the path. I stifled a laugh, for I recognized Arthur's angry summons in a heartbeat. "Mordred!" Merlin looked down the path, then back at me._

" _I'm afraid it must wait. Can it?" I did a quick check in my head, then nodded yes. "Good. We will return tonight, so no one notices us missing." I nodded again. Merlin gave me his well-known half smirk and it sent my blood racing. It wasn't anything like the effect Mordred had on me, but it was still thrilling to see such a familiar look on a beloved face that hadn't really existed for me except for a few moments ago. He turned to leave, and Mordred did as well, before turning back to me. He gave me a smile too, one that made my heart run a marathon._

" _What is your name?" I blushed, and a smile burst out on my face. I just hoped it was a charming one!_

" _My name is Bailey."_

" _Well then, I'll see you tonight…Bailey."_


	3. The Drawing of The Dark (revised)

_3_

 _The Drawing of the Dark (a revised version)_

 _After they left, I remained. I sat down and leaned my head against the trunk of a tree, staring up at the green foliage above. This was insane! Now that they were gone, and I didn't have the proof staring back at me, I wondered if I had just imagined it all. Waking up in a forest that you definitely did not fall asleep in was one thing, but meeting the legendary characters of your favourite TV show was quite another altogether! What was going on?_

 _At least now I knew why the forest looked familiar; it definitely was the forest that was seen in_ _Merlin_ _often. I had to be dreaming. Maybe I would wake up before they returned, and I would never know if I could have saved Mordred from his fate. On a different note, what if they didn't return at all? What if they didn't trust me, and had informed the guards that there was a crazy girl claiming that she'd seen the future in the forest, just sitting around waiting to be caught?_

" _No, Bailey!" I chastised myself, "Mordred was planning on helping Kara anyway; he will return!" But what if Merlin didn't? My plan to save Kara, Mordred, Arthur and all the others hinged on Merlin healing Kara with magic. I wasn't sure if Mordred was strong enough or even knew how to accomplish such a fete. Then I had to laugh at myself. This was crazy! It was most certainly a dream, and thinking otherwise was foolish and silly. I would just have to wait and see what happened!_

 _So, I waited. And waited. And waited some more. I sang songs quietly under my breath. I certainly didn't think about Mordred's bright blue eyes at all, or the way his smile sent my heart pattering. In fact, the name Mordred didn't even cross my mind. I was completely 'Zen' about the entire matter!_

* * *

 _By the time it finally began to get dark, I wasn't feeling so Zen. The previously mild chill in the air had dropped to a cold wind. I huddled into my cloak. I couldn't make out much through the gloom, and the fact that a caravan of knights had been slaughtered by Saxons in a clearing nearby wasn't helping keep me calm. The fear that I wasn't dreaming and that Mordred and Merlin had left me here was now very real!_

 _Just when I thought I couldn't take it any longer, I saw the glow of torches down the path and could hear footsteps. I waited until I could make out Mordred's handsome face before standing. My limbs were cramped with the cold. When they saw me, both men ran over._

" _I told you she would still be here, Merlin!" Merlin nodded, but through the dark, I couldn't tell if he was smiling or not. Mordred was though, beaming at me through the flames of his torch. I opened my mouth to respond, but was cut off by the wail of a cold gust of wind. I shivered, quite violently, and drew my cloak tighter around my body. Mordred's eyes widened. He murmured, "You're cold," and before I could protest, unclasped his cloak and threw it over my shoulders. Despite the relieving warmth, I shook my head._

" _Won't you be cold now?"_

" _No, I'm carrying the torch. I'll be fine!" I tried to return his cloak, but he wouldn't hear of it. Seeing that it was pointless, I just smiled, thanked him, and snuggled into the warmth. Merlin watched this all with an amused look. It was hard for me to think of him as anything but the goofy-looking boy who'd arrived in Camelot all those years ago, but he was certainly a man now, and much more confident, although there was the same sadness in his eyes that all adults had. It wasn't crushingly sad, just weary, because he'd seen so much and still had much to do._

 _Cutting off my appraisal of himself, Merlin asked, "What now?" I turned back to Mordred and asked him to locate Kara with his telekinesis-voice-thing. He nodded and closed his eyes. I knew what happened next, but I wasn't expecting to be able to hear it when it did. It was like Mordred was whispering in my ear, but loudly and with great vibrations rolling across my brain._

" _ **KARA**_ _…"_

 _We all waited a few seconds, and then I heard it, fainter than Mordred's speech had been, but still fairly clear - "_ _ **MORDRED**_ _…" The sound sharpened and grew much clearer in definition. I waited until I was sure he had a pinpoint on her location and that the communication had stopped. Then, I decided to try something. I closed my eyes and thought about reaching out with my inner voice to the attractive knight beside me._

" _ **MORDRED**_ _..." There was a suspended pause hanging in the air. Mordred looked over at me in surprise. The torch cast his features into shadow and made his eyes glow even brighter._

" _ **BAILEY**_ _?"_

 _I nodded, surprised and happy that he could hear me. I said, in my normal, outside voice, "I didn't know I could do that!" Mordred smiled at me, and I felt a slight tug in my gut. I prayed that this wasn't a dream, because all I wanted now was to help this Druid boy and to save all the people he and I cared about in the process. We stared at each other, his eyes searching and full of wonderment, mine just dazzled and amazed. I felt a flicker of a hopeful idea, but then immediately looked away. "We should get going," I broke the contact because we did really need to leave, but I also broke it because if this was a dream and I woke up in the near future, I didn't want it to crush me._

 _It didn't take us very long to locate the cave. Merlin and I made sure that all traces of our walk weren't to be found, even though, if the plan succeeded, it would be irrelevant. I didn't want to take any chances!_

 _As we drew closer to the cave, I turned to Merlin._

" _Can you heal her leg with magic?" I inquired, then let out a sigh of relief when he nodded. "And did you bring some supplies?" Another nod. I smiled thankfully. Mordred, who had been forging on ahead and was ready to run into the cave to see Kara, dropped back when he heard us talking._

" _Why do we need supplies?" he asked._

" _Because she needs to leave as soon as Merlin heals her," I replied. Mordred looked devastated at this._

" _She couldn't rest here for a couple days?" I shook my head vehemently._

" _If she stays any later than tonight, Arthur will find her!" At least, it only took him and Merlin a morning to do so in the episode. Now that our path was cleared, I wasn't certain, but the best way to go about doing this was if Kara was gone. She was the risky move, the changing factor, and she couldn't remain. Not if I was going to save Mordred, that is! I prayed she would see sense and go willingly and not endanger us any more than she had to._

 _I didn't agree with Arthur for executing Kara in the show, but that didn't mean I was a fan. I liked her because she made Mordred happy, but at the same time, I hated her because her death would eventually lead to the deaths of a great deal many of my favourite characters. Only now, those characters were walking beside me. I couldn't let her screw up my rescue mission!_

" _There's another reason you don't like her," the unwelcome voice in the back of my head chimed in, "it's because Mordred loves her, and you wish you had someone like that!" I dug my nails into my palm. The truth sucked and it hurt, even when it came from inside your head. The way he'd looked at me back there though…Gah! What was I doing? He loved Kara. End of story! And, if for some reason that changed, I didn't belong here any more then he would in modern-day London (if he even existed and wasn't some manifestation of my obsessive consciousness!) Not to mention the fact that there was still every chance he could turn evil and go running off to Morgana if just one of us made the wrong move! No, if ever there was a boy that was off-limits, Mordred was it was a capital 'I'!_

 _While I'd been rocked with inner turmoil, we had reached the mouth of the cave. Mordred hadn't brought up any more objections to my instructions, which was good._

" _I think it would be best if I stayed out here," I said to my companions. The echoes of my inner voice were still fading out, making me a little uneasy about coming face to face with Kara. "I can keep watch, and this way, she won't get frightened by so many people she doesn't know." Both nodded. Without another word, Mordred pushed through the vines blocking the entrance and hurried inside towards Kara. He was obviously eager to see her. Merlin glanced at me. I was fiddling with the clasp of Mordred's cloak and looked up, a little sadly. "You should go," I told him, "The sooner she is healed and on her way, the safer Arthur is." Merlin brushed aside the vines, but the look he gave me over his shoulder said that this conversation (though we had yet to technically start it) was not over._

 _I couldn't hear much from where I stood, just Mordred's quiet voice, a few exclamations from Kara now and then, and the shuffling of leaves as they moved around. I could picture very clearly, thanks to the episode, what was going on, and my gut tightened with jealousy. "Damn it Bailey, you are not seriously jealous of a television character are you?" Well, thanks helpful inside voice, but it looked like I was! I comforted myself in that there were variations. For starters, Merlin was there. I heard him explain what he intended to do to heal her leg, and then the murmuring of ancient, magical words. I couldn't help it; I was too curious and excited. I drew the vines back, and could see Merlin's hand glowing where it hovered over Kara's leg. His eyes were flashing with the yellow circle that had come to mean the usage of magic. My heart raced. I didn't care if it was a dream or not, it felt like I was witnessing something extraordinary first hand. I watched as the magical light faded, and I let the vines fall back into place._

 _My heart had yet to return to its normal pace when Merlin emerged._

" _Her leg is healed," he told me, "and she should be ready to leave within the next hour."_

" _And she understands why?" I asked hopefully._

" _Yes." I sagged against the rocky wall, incredibly thankful. Did this mean I'd saved them? Everyone I wanted to save? "Bailey," Merlin seemed uncertain how to broach the elephant of the subject, "what do you know of Mordred's destiny?"_

 _Reluctantly, I faced him. "I know what all the prophets have shown you, but they haven't revealed the entire truth!" I then proceeded to tell Merlin about all that would have befallen if I had not shown up, right down to the battle, Mordred's death, Merlin revealing his magic to Arthur before Arthur died, and everything in between. He was silent, except for the occasional gasp, and still except for the occasional glance over his shoulder to be sure the other two couldn't overhear us._

" _I don't believe Mordred is evil at heart," I murmured, wrapping up my tale, "I just think you need to be careful about how much you distrust him, for that was your undoing in all that I saw." Merlin took a breath to reply, but before he could, the vines parted to reveal Mordred and Kara. Merlin and I took a step back. Kara had on her shoulder the bag Merlin was carrying on our way here. I assumed it was full of all sorts of travel- helpful things. She shared a few more hushed words with Mordred - it almost looked like she wanted some more time to say goodbye - but Mordred came over to stand by Merlin and me. I tried, desperately, not to read too much into his gestures. Kara then thanked Merlin, and finally turned to me._

 _She was just as pretty as she was in the show, small, but with a sort of gravitas that was rather overwhelming. She looked like the kind of person people listened to without having to make much noise. I admired her and hated her at once._

" _You must be Bailey." She extended her palm and I shook it. "I am Kara, but according to Mordred, you already knew that." Her voice was soft but cold. I was reminded of a particular evil goddess in one of my old Percy Jackson books, the goddess of snow. Kara reminded me of a subtler, more realistic version of that goddess. Her mouth quirked in a delicate smirk, then she continued, "He also says you foresaw my death and came here to stop it."_

" _That is true," I replied carefully._

" _Then it would seem I am in your debt. Thank you." Kara let her gaze drift over to where Mordred and Merlin were chatting, and her eyes softened with love. I had just decided that she earned a couple points in my book for that, when I heard her say in her telekinesis speech, "_ _ **Where ever did you find this girl?**_ _" in a tone so cold, I was sure my fingers frosted over. Mordred glared at her over Merlin's head, then cast a quick glance over at me. I wondered if he remembered that I could hear them._

" _ **She's a good person Kara. I trust her.**_ _" My frozen finger tips tingled. Well, Kara had just lost all those redeeming points, and more, but Mordred certainly hadn't!_

" _ **It's not that I don't think she can be trusted, it's just…**_ _" I waited, wondering what she was going to say, "_ _ **…she has feelings for you. I know she does, and I'm not fond of leaving you with her!**_ _" I flinched as if she had struck me. Was I really that transparent?_

 _Kara didn't give Mordred a chance to respond. She said thank you to us all one last time, and then ran from the clearing like she'd never had an arrow even close to her leg._

* * *

 _Fairly exhausted, we all tromped back to the path. Mordred walked closely beside me, sneaking glances when he thought I wasn't watching._

 _Finally, he seemed to gather all his courage and in one breath mumbled, "I'm sorry she said all those things. Kara can be…overprotective. Which is stupid, considering I haven't seen her in about five years." I bit my lip and looked up at him. He looked so concerned and entirely_ _real_ _in the torchlight. I was becoming more and more convinced that this was not a dream with every step I took. If that was the case, I needed a place where I could lay down my head and get some rest. Almost as if he had read my mind, Mordred straightened suddenly. "Did you stop in Camelot before finding us?" I shook my head. "Do you have a place to stay?" Again, but more hesitantly, I shook my head._

" _My home is rather far away," I murmured. All at once, the reality of what was happening hit me and I swayed on my feet. No Mom, no Colin, no running water or TV or musicals or anything I knew. I was like a fish out of water, but make that an inconspicuous fish that looked like it could survive, but really couldn't._

 _Merlin turned in sympathy, saying, "You could stay with Gaius and myself, at least for the night." I blanched. The fact that these two were so willing to help filled me with even more admiration for them._

" _Thank you!" I exclaimed. "Thank you both so much!" They both smiled. Damn! Why couldn't Mordred have looked like some kind of troll? This was just too much for me._

" _Now all we have to manage," the attractive and very non-troll-like Mordred quipped, "is getting back inside Camelot with no one noticing!"_


	4. I Dreamed a Dream in Time Gone By

**Hey guys! First week down! Glad to see people reading this; it means a lot. Tons of thanks to Mikonator for the follow.**

 **This chapter name was inspired by the first line of I Dreamed a Dream from the musical Les Miserables (I'm in a Les Mis phase even more so than usual because my school is doing it next year) but really has nothing to do with what that song is about. Also, I'm going to be doing any "author's stuff" at the end of the chapters now, just so people can get to reading. And one more thing before we go back to Camelot: do you guys think the M rating is too high? There are really only a few f bombs in a much later chapter, so I don't know. If you have any advice like that, or comments, reviews would be so so so appreciated (I understand if you don't though; sometimes I just don't know what to say!) And now...CAMELOT!**

 _4_

 _I Dreamed a Dream in Time Gone By…_

 _When I awoke to sunbeams streaming down and warming my face, I dreaded opening my eyes. I was worried, absolutely petrified, about what I would find. I knew, without a doubt, whatever I found would be cause for unhappiness. If I was back in the hotel room in London, I would be devastated. No Mordred, no enchanting smiles or telekinesis-speech or chances to save him from his destiny. If I found myself in Merlin's room in Gaius's chambers, well, then I had several good reasons to be frightened. I couldn't stand the suspense any longer however, so I forced my eyes open._

 _I was in a hard, small bed, with rough blankets and feathers in my pillow. In other words, I was in Gaius' chambers. The previous night had not been a dream! I was triumphant,_ _jubilant_ _, until I remembered what that meant. Would I be stuck here forever? Would my family and friends continue on with their lives, with no idea what had befallen me? Did this mean I was never going to be a Broadway star, if I had suddenly found myself in a time long before Broadway even existed? I heard voices outside the door, and that sound aroused my incredible excitement once more. When I was alone, I could worry about those other things. I put on the dress from yesterday, with some difficulty. Oh, I would miss my jeans and sweatpants! I tied my hair back, and prayed that it would stay. That accomplished, I took another deep breath and opened the door._

 _Merlin and Gaius sat at the table eating, and they were not alone. Mordred was also there, already dressed in his armour. The men turned when I entered._

" _Ah, my dear," Gaius got up and pulled a chair over to the table, "I'm glad you're awake. Mordred would like to discuss some things with you." I smiled in thanks and sat down between the old man and Mordred._

 _When the three of us had returned last night, Merlin and I had told Gaius all that the two of us had previously discussed. I expressed my hopefulness that Mordred's fate had been diverted, and Gaius had cautiously agreed. Merlin was still on the watch, but all of us were. Surely with at least three people looking out for him, Mordred would be safe!_

 _Merlin passed me a bowl of porridge, and all went silent as I gobbled it up. With all the excitement of the past day or so, I hadn't had the chance to eat and hadn't even realized just how hungry I was. When I came up for air, everyone was watching me. I flushed and wiped my mouth._

" _Did you sleep well?" Gaius asked as he cleared the dishes._

 _I nodded. "Very well, thanks to you and Merlin. I don't know what I would have done otherwise! I was only a little guilty about taking your bed, Merlin."_

 _The secret warlock smiled at me. "Oh, that's alright. Whenever we have a guest that isn't a patient, I give up my bed." He leaned in across the table so only Mordred and I could hear. "I wouldn't want to deprive the old man of his comforts now would I?"_

" _I'm not so old that I can't hear you whispering over there, Merlin!" Gaius called from the other side of the room, "You ungrateful boy!" Merlin gave a small smile, like 'whoop-see-daisy' and then went to help his surrogate father clean up. Mordred and I exchanged a look. I felt my heart go patter. We had known each other for less than a day, and already we were exchanging looks about our mutual friends! This made me incredibly happy, but also a little queasy. Doubts about my actual home and Mordred's fate resurfaced, but I pushed them to the back of my mind._

" _I just hope I won't have to inconvenience you for too much longer," I said to my hosts, hoping to distract myself from Mordred. Unfortunately, it was he who responded._

" _I believe that may be where I come in!"_

* * *

 _What felt like only moments later, Mordred and I were standing in one of the castle's familiar corridors, in front of a large, wooden door. I was feeling a little faint._

" _I really don't know if I can do this Mordred!" I hissed. I was on the verge of hyperventilating. He put his hand on my shoulder, which had the opposite effect of calming me down. My blood raced, but fortunately, he would probably assume it was because of what we were about to do and not his contact._

" _Nonsense. You'll be fine. I already spoke to both of them about it, and they were eager to help. I like to think Arthur would do almost anything for me," he added as an afterthought._

' _Almost_ _anything,' I thought, but instead said aloud, "And you for him." It wasn't a question. I knew Mordred was loyal to his king, and that he believed in the world Arthur would bring, just like Merlin did. With any luck, sending Kara away would allow his faith to remain unshaken._

" _Yes. I would." Mordred's response to my statement brought me back to his side. "Would you?" His unexpected question surprised me, and Mordred used my moment of distraction to knock upon the door._

" _Mordred!" I exclaimed. He smiled apologetically, but was cut off by a call from inside._

" _Enter!"_

 _I looked at him, genuinely concerned I might puke. Maybe he sensed this. Maybe he was worried too. Maybe he just wanted to reassure himself, but, whatever his reasoning behind it, Mordred took my hand and gave it a squeeze. Blushing scarlet, I squeezed back, then let go as he opened the door._

 _King Arthur and Queen Guinevere sat at their breakfast table, and both looked exactly like they did on_ _Merlin_ _. Older perhaps, like Gaius and Merlin, and with slight variations in their clothing. Still, the familiarity reassured me, and most of my nerves vanished._

" _My lord, my lady," Mordred addressed his rulers and bowed. I gave a slight curtsey, thankful for all my ballet training so I didn't look like a complete fool. "This is Bailey; the girl I was telling you about last night." Gwen gave me a gentle smile, and I smiled back, reassured even further._

" _Mordred," Arthur nodded to his knight, and then turned to me. I ducked my head, like I'd seen people do in the movies when being addressed by royalty. Then, I heard him chuckle. "There's no need for that. Please, come join us. Sit." I looked to Mordred for confirmation, and he nodded, so I seated myself across from Gwen. Mordred took the chair between Arthur and me._

" _Now Bailey," Arthur began, not unkindly, "Mordred here says you recently helped him aid an old friend of you both. Is this true?"_

" _It is, my lord."_

" _He also says you had to make a rushed journey, and made no previous arrangements in Camelot nor brought any currency. Is this true?" I hadn't even really thought about money yet, but I obviously didn't have any._

" _Yes."_

 _Arthur leaned back in his seat, and looked at me, Mordred, and his wife in turn. "Well, any friend of one of my most trusted knights is a friend of mine, and of Camelot." I bit my lip, not daring to look at Mordred, thinking of Kara and many other people from Mordred's past who wouldn't hesitate to hurt Arthur or Camelot. Arthur continued, "We can't let you go unaided now, can we? Not when we have the means!"_

 _Guinevere took this as her que to join in, and leaned forward. "As you probably know, I used to be a servant. I lived in a house in the lower town. Since I married Arthur, and since both my father and brother are dead, it has gone uninhabited. I hadn't the heart to sell it, you see," I merely nodded, not daring to believe my luck, "and I would like you to have it." Even though I'd suspected where this was going, and Mordred had told me about this house, I couldn't believe their generosity!_

" _Your Majesty!" I exclaimed, dumbfounded._

 _Gwen held up her hand so she could continue. "It has been empty for much too long, and is within walking distance to the castle," she cast a quick, intuitive look from Mordred to myself that I prayed he missed the meaning of, "since I suspect you will have cause to visit us. Also, it has a garden, which has always grown plenty more vegetables then I have ever needed for myself. If you're planning on staying indefinitely in Camelot, then perhaps you could sell them or trade them as your livelihood."_

' _Indefinitely is right!' I thought. Still, I couldn't believe my luck! Looking back on it now, I was exceedingly fortunate that I had landed in this time frame when Arthur was king, and married to Gwen. I could only imagine what would have happened if I'd shown up here while Uther was king, or if Aggravaine was still alive and advising Arthur. Not to mention that then I wouldn't have had Mordred! I cast a glance at him, at the knight, who was quickly becoming my friend, sitting beside me. The thought of waking up in that forest without him running in was chilling at best._

" _What do you think, Bailey?" Arthur inquired. "Will you take my wife up on her offer?"_

 _I replied, in what I hoped was a gracious enough tone, "Oh yes! Thank you so very much my lady! And my lord," I added, with a less-shy-then-before smile at Arthur. He smiled back._

" _Well, then that's settled. And I think we could afford to give Mordred the day off to get you settled and show you around." Mordred smiled a wide smile then too, and squeezed my hand once again under the table._

" _Thank you my lord," he answered. Arthur gave a nod that was clearly a dismissal, and we stood to go._

" _Oh," he called to us from the table, "if either of you happen to see Merlin, tell him to get his lazy backside up here for work!"_

* * *

 _Mordred showed me around the castle before we ventured out into the city. As we had just come from the royal chambers, he showed me all the guest chambers and where members of the court stayed. The throne room was next, and as he was a knight, we could actually go inside to look. I stared around in awe. The room was massive, and alight with sunlight streaming in through high windows near the roof. Arthur and Guinevere's twin thrones stood down at the opposite end, high-backed and imposing. I could see now what a favour Mordred had done for me in getting me an audience with the rulers in such a relaxed state. If I was nervous speaking to them in their bedroom, can you imagine how much worse it would have been to stand in front of the entire court, the Knights of the Round Table, and two fair, yet powerful, monarchs?_

 _The real attention grabber, however, was a round table of shining wood, sitting dead center in the hall._

" _Is this," I asked Mordred, running my hand across the golden Pendragon crest in the middle of the dark wood, "_ _the_ _Round Table?" He nodded, managing to look both serious and amazed at the same time. "Wow!" I breathed, then we were both silent. I was feeling a great surge of power and strength. No one from my world had ever stood here. Ever. I was the first! No one from my world had been certain that this legendary table - this castle, this city, these_ _people_ _, – had ever existed. Yet here I stood. I looked over at Mordred, wanting to thank him for this moment, but not really sure how to go about doing so. To him, it was a great room, a powerful room, and a symbol of Arthur's greatness, but not legendary. Not yet, anyway. He was gazing out the windows with a strange look on his face. Peaceful, and yet a million miles away. I wondered what he was thinking about._

 _Then, almost like he could feel me looking at him, he turned. "I was knighted in this room."_

" _I know."_

 _Mordred smiled softly. "I forget that you have seen the future. You seem so…" he paused, at a loss for words, "…present." We were staring at each other again, and the urge to continue staring, to lose myself in Mordred's bright, blue eyes, was overwhelming and compelling._

" _Kara," my inner voice hissed, "he loves Kara. And you don't belong here!"_

 _Looking away, I murmured, "Isn't there more you wish to show me?" Mordred looked confused, then, for a split second, hurt, before he nodded briskly._

" _Yes…yes, of course! We should probably get going." He led the way out of the throne room. I cast a glance behind me, back at the famous Round Table, and dug my nails into my palms._

" _You don't belong here!" the voice inside me hissed. "I know!" I hissed back. "Believe me, I know…"_

 _Next, we saw the kitchens, and the servants' quarters. Gaius' chambers were on this level as well. Below them were the knights' chambers, because next was the armoury and they above all people would need quick access to that room. This was where Mordred led me next. We went down several corridors, then Mordred stopped, and hit a door on his right with his fist._

" _This is my home." He glanced at me, then quickly looked away. His ears were turning pink. I wondered why he had brought me here, then wondered if he was regretting it. Impulsively, and before I could stop myself, I put my hand on his arm. Mordred met my eyes, chewing on his cheek in embarrassment. I had never seen him embarrassed before. Happy, angry, devastated, cheeky, evil even, but never abashed._

 _I whispered, "You think of Camelot as your home then?"_

 _A sad smile played across his lips. "_ _ **In a lot of ways, yes,**_ _" he was speaking in my mind again. I was unnerved by how intimate it felt. Mordred's hand was shaking where it rested against the door frame as he went on, "_ _ **but if I can't be myself, then is it really my home?**_ _"_

" _ **You're talking about your magic…?**_ _" He gave the smallest of nods in reply._

" _ **No one really knows who I am, except for Merlin, and he doesn't trust me!**_ _" Even through telekinesis, I could hear the bitterness. All in one heartbeat, I was flattered he was sharing this with me, sympathetic for the young knight, and angry at Merlin for causing so much loneliness. And underneath it all, even though I was ashamed of it, wary of the beautiful, magical boy in front of me. How I responded to his showing of emotion was crucial. And, even more important to me, it was a huge leap forward in our relationship (despite knowing each other for less than a day!)_

" _Mordred…" I whispered aloud, and put my hand over top of his. It stopped shaking, and he drew a tense breath. "I know who you are. What you are. How_ _good_ _you are. And I would trust you with my life!" He looked me straight in the eyes, and this time, I refused to look away._

" _Kara…" the voice warned, but I ignored it. I'm not sure what Mordred would have done next, or what I would have done, to be honest, but we were interrupted by heavy footfalls echoing down the corridor. Startled, I looked away and let my hand drop back to my side._

" _Mordred!" a boisterous voice called. "Good to see you!" The loud voice was accompanied by a tall knight with long, brown hair and a devilish look about him. I recognized Sir Gwaine immediately._

" _Gwaine," Mordred greeted his friend warmly, although his voice sounded a tad shaky to me. Thankfully, Gwaine didn't notice. Instead, he noticed me for the first time._

" _Mordred. Why have you not introduced me to this lovely, young lady here? That's not very chivalrous!"_

 _Mordred rolled his eyes, but replied dutifully, "Gwaine, this is my friend Bailey, who just arrived in Camelot yesterday. Bailey, the big dollop head in front of you is none other than Sir Gwaine." I bit my lip to curb the giggle rising out of me, and curtsied to Gwaine._

" _A pleasure, Sir Gwaine." Gwaine grabbed my hand, knelt, and kissed it._

" _The pleasure," he cooed, smiling up at me, "is all mine." This proved too much for both Mordred and me. Simultaneously, we burst into laughter, Mordred leaning against his door, and me, doubled over, my hair in my face. Gwaine looked from Mordred to me, then back to Mordred._

 _Mordred, still chuckling, quipped, "She called you on that one, Gwaine!" before doubling over to laugh again. His laugh was nothing like the serious and upset boy I had just seen, nor like the contemplative and awed one from the throne room. It was infectious, childish, and totally happy._

" _I'm sure you tell that to all the ladies, Sir Gwaine," I said, by way of explanation._

 _Gwaine just shook his head, surprised. "You wound me deeply, fair lady." He kissed my hand once more, then stood to go. "But I can see that I should leave you two be. Wouldn't want to hinder your chances, now would I, Mordred?" Mordred glared furiously at Gwaine, his ears going red again._

" _I'm sure I don't know what you mean!" he snapped at the other knight's retreating back. And now, he was angry and embarrassed, almost ferocious, but not quite frightening. At least, not frightening enough for Gwaine, who strolled off down the corridor whistling._

 _The more I saw of this Druid knight, the more I wanted to see. He was enigmatic, mysterious, and very handsome, yet adorable and playful at times. I had spent just under 24 hours in Camelot and with Mordred, and yet I could barely breathe in his company. When I was without him, it was even worse._

 _While all this had been going on, Mordred's anger had cooled. His ears were still a faint pink though. My own face was bright red when he turned back to me. He apologized for his friend's observations, and we continued on down the same hallway as Gwaine._

" _Should we go to the city now?" Mordred asked after a few paces of no one saying anything, to which my response was an excited yes!_

 _The city of Camelot was nothing at all like I expected. It was small compared to the bustling metropolises of my world, but looked busier due to the fact that I could see, smell, and hear all the people just from standing on the castle battlements. Smoke rose from thousands of cooking and heating fires, but other than that and the stink of people who lived with their livestock and barely bathed, the air was fresh and pollutant-free. The sun shone down and gave the whole scene an otherworldly appearance._

" _What do you think?" Mordred inquired. He was leaning on top of the parapet walls beside me, face to the wind._

" _It's…" I struggled to find the word I wanted to describe the sight, "It's…"_

" _Astounding," Mordred tried, "Overwhelming, unbelievable…"_

" _Indescribable," I finally settled on. Mordred smiled. We were quiet for a moment, staring out at the gleaming city._

" _When I was trapped in Morgana's chambers, when I was first here as a child, I couldn't imagine how the people could be content without the trees. There was so much sky, it made the whole city look infinite. It was quite frightening," Mordred's voice was calm, amused even, as he spoke of his first time in Camelot. His father had been executed here, and he had almost died too. Frightening was a mild way of putting it. "When I returned many years later, however, this time in the company of the King and his knights, I could see that it had a different type of beauty. It took some getting used to, but I love to walk the streets now. It can be almost as relaxing as walking among the trees." I watched him as he gazed out over the city. In all that I had seen, in all the fanfiction I had read, nothing had or could have prepared me for this beguiling, young knight. I could see how Arthur and all the other knights were completely taken with his 'innocent and wide-eyed deer' routine. And I could see how Merlin had been driven to such dreadful fear. If someone like this were to come along, worm his way into the good graces of the occasionally-blind king you were destined to protect, and you knew that this newcomer was almost certain to try to kill your king, what would you do? I was starting to see how Merlin could distrust Mordred so, but I didn't share his deep-rooted suspicion. Where did that put me then?_

" _Would you like to_ _actually_ _go see it now?"_

" _Pardon?" I had been lost in my train of thought, and had not heard Mordred's gentle, if sarcastic, question. He repeated it for my benefit, I nodded in assent, and we headed off._

 _Down in the streets of Camelot, I was even more at a loss for words. Straw huts and stone houses were cluttered together in no particular order, with no plan, no rhyme or reason. Open-air stalls advertised a whole manner of items, from jewelry to candied apples to bouquets of fresh flowers for men to buy for their sweethearts. Colourful signs swung down above our heads, and a multitude of people roamed the streets. Behind us loomed the castle, large, white, and protective. In a way, it felt like what I thought New York should feel like, chaotic, but colourful and bright. In a totally different way, it felt close-knit and like a small, rural town. These people were living on top of each other. And, with Arthur as king, they now had little to fear from their monarch. It couldn't be a bad life. At least, I hoped so, as it was about to become_ _my_ _life!_

 _Because I was so distracted and excited, and because Mordred was all too happy to oblige my curiosity, we didn't find my new house until after dark. I wasn't really alarmed, because I figured travelling with a knight of Camelot was about as safe as I could get, and it just so happened that this particular knight had magic at his disposal as well. I was just tired. I opened the door to my new home, and was surprised to see candles lit on the kitchen table. A pot of stew sat bubbling over the last remnants of a blazing fire in the fireplace. Before I could ask just where this all had come from, Mordred provided the answer. He found a note under one of the candles, and showed it to me._

" _It says that it's compliments of the queen!" I exclaimed, and Mordred smirked._

" _Guess you really charmed them, didn't you?"_

" _Oh, like you can tease me about that, Mr. Wide, Bright, Blue Eyes! They're_ _enchanted_ _by_ _you_ _!" Mordred gave another laugh like the one Gwaine had induced from him earlier today. It sounded like a combination of the actor's laugh from the TV show, and a bit of my Mordred's own, boyish, shy contribution. In other words, it was charming_ _and_ _enchanting, and it made me glow with pleasure to make that sound come from him._

 _After his laugh had subsided, he defended himself with, "I've had longer. The queen, at least, was really taken with you."_

 _I threw my head back with a teasing laugh of my own, saying, "Well, she's a fabulous judge of character!"_

" _Yes," Mordred replied, fixing his innocent, paralyzing eyes on me, "she is." He was looking at me with question in those blue depths, but I ducked my head, refusing to see or acknowledge it. The air felt thick with emotion. I trembled, but why, I couldn't say. I counted to the number five before addressing him again._

" _The queen left quite a lot of stew. Perhaps…you would care to help me eat it?" It was a poor peace offering, but Mordred just nodded. He looked puzzled, but I managed to chase that upset look from his eyes, with the help of Guinevere's vegetable stew and my amazing wit._

 _Mordred was, beyond a doubt, the best dinner guest I had ever had the pleasure of entertaining. He listened intently, and regaled me with tales of his own, of the other knights, of missions, and of his father. Nothing really was said of his years on his own, nor much about Morgana, but I didn't press those topics._

 _When he finally bade me goodnight, all the stew was gone, and all I had been thinking about for the past hour was how natural it felt talk to Mordred. Or how nice his eyes looked in the flickering candlelight. I was, naturally, unsure of how to send him off, but he fixed that. At the doorway, Mordred turned to me. I was completely unprepared for what happened next. That's the_ _only_ _reason I allowed it_ _to_ _happen. Mordred smiled lightly, then wrapped his arms around me. Well, what was I supposed to do, push him away? Startled, but entirely pleased, I hugged him back._

" _Goodnight," I whispered, then, with an apprehensive glance down the exceedingly dark street, added, "and please be careful!" Mordred smirked._

" _I will. The most dangerous thing out there will be myself anyway." I tensed as I remembered this was very true. Mordred went on, "I'm going to come by tomorrow and help you set up your stall." We'd been discussing plans for a street-vendor-ish stall of my own to sell the vegetables and make my living that way. The way he offered his help made me think I didn't have much of a choice, but I nodded happily. "We'll get you out on the market in no time flat!" he promised, and then, with one last squeeze, Mordred released me. I watched the Druid knight return to his almost-home up at the castle, dreading his return, yet knowing it would make me the happiest girl in Camelot._


	5. but There are Dreams That Cannot Be!

_5_

… _but There are Dreams That Cannot Be!_

 _I fell asleep with a stomach full of good food and my head full of happy thoughts. When I woke up, however, there was a pit of dread in my stomach. All throughout the day before, I had allowed myself to ignore the warnings in my head and entertain ideas that Mordred was falling for me. Now, waking up by myself in my nice, but somewhat lonely new house, I realized this would not do, for three main reasons._

 _The first was that Mordred was deeply in love with Kara. I knew this to be fact. I couldn't allow myself to get my hopes up, because then I would be in for a world of hurt, and I wouldn't want to assume anything. I think my fatal flaw (according to Percy Jackson, every hero has one) might have been assuming too much, or reading too much into things. At least when it came to boys! But, if Mordred genuinely was falling for me, and was prepared to forget about Kara, I had two other solid reasons to stop myself._

 _The second? He was fated to kill Arthur! Enough said! Even if I had removed the main threat to Mordred's faith in his king, I had no idea what could happen next, because my arrival had changed everything. It would certainly do no good to fall in love with someone who was such a threat to the other people that I cared about here, or to have him fall in love with me. If it did come down to Merlin or Arthur having to kill Mordred to save Camelot, I wanted it to cause me the most minimal amount of pain possible. And we know, we have seen, that I cared a great deal,_ _before_ _I had actually met the guy. Now what do you think that would do to me? If, and this was a cautious, hopeful if, nothing immediately threatening turned him, I couldn't even have him finding out what I knew about his destiny either. Such things never ended well, that much I knew._

 _Thirdly, if Mordred happened to fall in love with me, and he remained good, like I hoped to the depths of my heart that he would, it would not be fair to him. I didn't belong here. I wasn't sure why or how I came to be here, but it was possible that I could return home at any minute. And as much as that would hurt me, knowing what I knew about Camelot and my home, it would hurt Mordred a lot more, because he didn't know about those things. He would assume that I had merely left without saying goodbye (which would hurt me too) or would think that something dreadful had happened to me. If I knew anything for certain about the Druid boy, I knew that when he loved people, he loved them whole-heartedly. So, if Mordred thought some horrible thing had befallen me, he might go evil and then we would be back to square one._

 _These terrible thoughts and doubts crowded my mind. They were so much worse than not trusting the young knight! They were to protect him, as well as myself, and all the citizens of Camelot, but I knew that wouldn't make upholding them any easier. Because, in the face of these thoughts, I had to be honest with myself. And my honest self was telling me that I was falling for Mordred._ _Beyond_ _falling, actually._

 _I put my head in my hands and shed a few tears. Why was life so complicated? In that moment, sitting in a lonely house meant to hold only one, I lamented that this had happened to me. Didn't I have enough to worry about? I was going into grade 12, I was preparing for the musical this upcoming year, I was debating auditioning for the Citadel's Young Companies, and I had a job at Chapters…the list never ended! I knew that was normal. Life_ _was_ _stressful! But, surely waking up in Camelot added a whole new level of stress! I had a lot to hide, and a lot to sort through emotionally. It would all be so much easier if a certain dark-haired, blue-eyed knight wasn't occupying my every single thought! I cried and knotted my hands in my hair, twisting them so I felt the pressure but no pain. I held them there until my fingers were stiff and my tears had slowed. After I had let all that out, I felt better, if not really happy. I sat up, and went about figuring what to do for breakfast._

 _I knew, deep in my heart, that I was too amazed about actually living in Camelot to wish it hadn't happened to me for long, and I also knew that I was exceedingly thankful to have Mordred. Everyone had been so openly generous, but much of that wouldn't have happened without Mordred stepping in first. Finally locating an apple, some cheese and some ham (the queen had stocked the cupboards with all the essentials) I sat down to eat._

 _As I ate, I thought about Mordred's return later on today. If I was so determined not to fall in love with him, and to have him not fall in love with me, the most sensible thing to do would be to call off even friendship at this point. I was fairly certain that if I didn't do so now, then to do it later would be futile. I was also fairly certain that my heart couldn't take cutting him off now. Surely I could manage my own feelings and keep a respective distance while still remaining on his good side and continuing to see him! The thought fueled me with determination. All was not lost. At best, Mordred and I would be good friends. That was all I would allow myself to hope for, and that was the best outcome for all._

 _As Mordred and the other knights (including the king) had training every day at this time, I decided to take a look in and around my house and see what was at my disposal. It was one of the nicer looking homes I'd seen in the lower town, small, but clean and sturdy. Inside, there was the small bed, the kitchen table, a small place to prepare food, the fireplace and the stone hearth, and a back room behind some screens. In the shelves and cupboards near the kitchen area, I found bowls, plates, cutlery, everything I would need utensil wise. I had found most of the food stocks earlier in my search for breakfast, but I located some basic cooking requirements like flour, sugar, and many different spices. With a sinking stomach, I realized that I was going to have to cook my own meals now. At least I had some basic knowledge. The rest I would have to either learn through experience or go and seek some help. I decided Gaius and Merlin were my best bets with that endeavour, although Mordred might know a thing or two as well._

 _In the back, behind the screens, I found bags of wheat and straw, as well as a back door that I assumed led to the garden, and a cabinet made of strong wood. Ignoring the bags, I strode to the cabinet and flung open the doors. I was relieved beyond all measure to find rows of pretty, if simple, dresses, undergarments, shoes and the like. Up until now, I had been concerned that I would have to continue wearing this one outfit until I made some money off of my stall. That taken care of, I closed the cabinet and proceeded to the door. The rest of the room was taken up by smaller tools and utensils, buckets for well water, hair brushes, gardening tools etc. That was about it. It was a simple life, something I was coming to realize, if not appreciate just yet._

 _I opened the door and found that it did indeed lead to the garden. It was an exceedingly small plot of land, but I could see what Guinevere had meant about the ample produce. It was practically overflowing! Any vegetable that you could find in the super market back home basically grew in Gwen's former garden. At least that's what it looked like to me! I found it a tad overwhelming, but the artistic and romantic side of me absolutely adored every inch of it!_

 _I spent the rest of the morning picking vegetables and caring for the garden, thanking Mom and Grandma along the way for teaching me about it all. When I finished that, at about quarter to 11, I headed back inside. I was quite covered in dirt, and thought it best I clean up before heading up to the castle. I chose a blue-coloured dress from the back wardrobe, and tied what would have been my bangs if I had bangs back with a similarly shaded ribbon I found. The mirror showed a decently pretty girl gazing back at me. She smiled, and there was no trace of the sadness and futility she'd been feeling this morning. That accomplished, I set out for the castle, but not before making up a basket of my freshly picked vegetables as a gift for Merlin and Gaius._

* * *

" _Bailey! What a pleasant surprise," Gaius exclaimed as he opened the door. "Arthur and Merlin set out on a patrol not too long ago, so I'm afraid that he's not going to be back anytime soon."_

" _That's ok," I replied amiably. Then, trying not to seem too invested, "Was Mordred on that patrol?"_

" _No. He requested that he have the afternoon off to help a friend. He so rarely asks for anything, he usually gets things when he does, even if it is two days in a row." Gaius raised an eyebrow at me. I'm afraid I was blushing something terrible._

" _However," the old man continued, "I have no idea whatsoever who this friend may be, so it is of little consequence." I flashed him a grateful grin, then quickly changed the subject by handing him my veggie gift basket. Gaius was surprised. "I am most grateful. So rarely do we get fresh vegetables up here in the bowels of the castle, but it is most unnecessary!"_

 _I protested, "It was for letting me sleep here the night before last! Besides, I have another favour to ask of you." Gaius was free of patients and a little tired of cleaning, so he was happy to oblige._

 _Three hours later, we both were hot from the cooking fire and very sweaty. I was pretty sure that Gaius had tried to impart all the knowledge he had in cooking (which seemed to be extensive, to say the least!) in that same time frame. I was grateful, it was just that I was also feeling a little frazzled. I hoped my hair didn't reflect that sentiment!_

 _I began to hope even more fervently when there came a quiet knock at the door, which Gaius opened to reveal Mordred, grinning shyly. It was one of the first times I had seen him without armour, in person and on TV. Needless to say, the white shirt and brown breeches fit him fabulously and were a little distracting. I chastised myself for thinking that way right after I had vowed not to fall for him. If only his smile wasn't so adorable!_

" _Bailey! I saw you walking up to the castle and thought you might be headed this way. What are you doing?" I explained about my very limited knowledge of cooking and that Gaius was graciously helping me learn some important things. Mordred smirked knowingly. He was glad to help us clean the messy space up, which was soon done with three people working at it. I then thanked Gaius, because his help had been invaluable, as I would later learn when trying to cook for myself. I didn't, however, miss the knowing look on the physician's face as he escorted us to the door. I bristled slightly. I knew what I was doing! Everyone else's caution was completely unnecessary! The tiny voice in the back of my head tried to chime in, but I wasn't willing to hear anything from it. As I didn't want Mordred to catch onto the silent meanings being thrown around, I hurried him out of there, after one last thank you for Gaius._

* * *

 _The sun was near to sinking by the time Mordred and I finished with my stall. It was very simple, just a table with an awning above it really, but I was very proud of our efforts. Tired and hot, we leaned against the back of it, resting next to a plain sign that read:_ _Fresh Fruit and Vegetables_ _. Mordred was panting faintly, and his hair was sticking to his face. I'm sure I looked no better. I lolled my head to the side so I could see him more properly, only to find Mordred looking back at me, his face no more than a couple of inches away from mine. I let out a little yelp and turned around so fast that I got whiplash. I kept my face turned to the side while I got my breath back under control. I dug my nails into my palms, the pain helping a little._

 _Mordred asked quietly, "Are you alright?" He sounded concerned, but I wasn't ready to face him again just yet. My heart had to slow down first._

" _Fine," I replied, but the breathlessness of that response could clearly be heard. Knowing that something else was needed to salvage the situation, I chose two apples from the basket at my feet and handed one to Mordred as I turned back around. He brightened at the shiny fruit, but still shot me another puzzled and worried glance._

" _You're sure you're fine?"_

" _How could I not be?" I took a crunchy bite of my apple, and he followed suit. "I am sitting here with fresh food, in the sunshine, and with a friend. And we've finished the stall, so I can be up and running within the next few days!" Mordred widened his eyes comically._

" _I don't believe we've previously discussed our friendship status," he stated. I continued to munch on my apple, listening. "I mean, I'm really only here for the sunshine and fresh, free food!"_

 _I pretended to be hurt. "I knew there was more to your motives than just helping me out!" I was tempted to give the knight a playful shove, but that was bordering on too flirty, so I decided against it._

 _He grinned cheekily, and said with mock seriousness, "You'd be surprised how morally corrupt we knights can be!"_

" _And if the knights of Camelot are supposed to be the best in the land, I'm not sure I want to meet the others!" It had been going on like this all afternoon, the easy, carefree banter. It was almost_ _too_ _easy. I was certain it would continue, but Mordred returned to the original topic of conversation._

" _So, are we really friends?" I looked over at him, pretending to think about it. I meant what I had said, but I contemplated the knight in front of me, with his laughing, hopeful eyes and expectant smile. He wasn't really close to many in Camelot besides his fellow knights and Arthur. Many of the people from his past were either dead or far from here. I was the first person who didn't live in the castle he was branching out with, which was ironic considering how far I had actually come to be sitting here beside him. At this moment, I was glad I had._

" _Of course, Mordred! Do you think I share my apples with just anyone?" His smile widened. The serious and thankful look remained in his eyes though. It warmed me to the core, but the voice in my head said that if I didn't do something quick, this moment was about to get very intense. I added, standing up and stretching, "Morally corrupt knights considered in my factorings as well!"_

 **Alright, there! This one was a little on the shorter side, but the next couple are pretty long so I didn't want to do multiples today. I hope you're enjoying all the fluff and angst; I had so much fun writing it all! I think I'm going to use those horizontal lines for breaks now.**

 **Just wanted to say a huge thank you to all you who've read this, especially to GodsLittleGeek, Royiah, Missymissy87, and toritututwo16 for the follows, and (from the bottom of my heart) Royiah and toritututwo16 for the favs. It means so much guys! I was a tad nervous about posting this story, but I didn't have a reason to be!**

 **The chapter title was, once again, inspired by a line from I Dreamed a Dream. Next weeks title is the title of a song, but not one from Les Mis (not musical theatre at all!) They just fit so well.**

 **Reviews would greatly be appreciated too! See ya'll next week!**


	6. Days Go By

_6_

 _Days Go By_

 _The days passed after that, easy, happy, and free. A couple days after Mordred had helped me build my stall, I was out and selling my wares. It was slow going at first, but I soon picked up speed with my clientele; I quickly gained some regular customers! In fact, no one could have predicted the stellar outcome nor the hidden ingenious of this fruit-selling plan I had adopted. You see, the farmers' wares were always rather expensive because of the long distances they had to travel to sell in Camelot. If you wanted more fresh produce, the price could get very hefty very quickly. My aim with my stall was not to put the farmers out of business, but I could afford to be less expensive. I had no family to provide for, no seeds to sow for next harvest. All I had to do was care for my plants and let nature take it from there! Therefore, I could trade with people for anything at all that I really needed. I could be understanding if someone didn't have exactly the perfect amount of payment. I could be less expensive, or even extremely generous and hand out some freebies. This earned me a reputation, a reputation of being fair and generous. This, in turn, assured me a great deal of faithful costumers. And I was happy._

 _But, being plucked from my own time frame had its consequences. When the sun set and I was all alone in my house, I was free to worry and wonder and fret. What of my family? My home? What on Earth did they think had happened to me? How I wished there was some way I could let them know I was alright, more than alright actually. I was perfectly happy to be in Camelot. I did miss many things, like running water, flushing toilets, and portable music, but I knew that if I was to return in the near future, I would miss the city as well. Whoever –_ _whatever?_ _– had plucked me from my average life and set me down here had just torn me in two. Wherever I was,_ _when_ _ever I was, I would be missing something wonderful. How would I ever be able to function as what I had considered normal again? Because every morning held a twinge of terrible fear, fear that I had returned, fear that I would never see Mordred again, and then guilt and sadness. I didn't want to go back, but I missed my home with all my heart. In the dictionary, beside the definition of paradox, there should have been a picture of my heart, with one half belonging to King Arthur and Camelot, and the other at home with my family and the world I had previously known._

 _And then there was Mordred. Quiet, clever, sarcastic, funny, gentle Mordred. Being in his company, especially when it was just the two of us, was like someone had replaced the blood in my veins with boiling lava, burning through my arteries and rivaling the heat of the sun. It was very nearly unbearable. I couldn't allow my guard to drop for him, but it was always a tight-rope-walk not to give in to his shy smile. He was very good at hiding his feelings, but I could see that my pulling back was puzzling and frustrating for the young knight. In the first two days of our friendship, it had been full speed ahead. We had gotten so close so quickly, and then it had halted, because of me. I refused to move forward any further. Hurting him like that, and knowing there was no other way to protect everyone would set the lava boiling overtime. Then, when he was gone, all the lava would drain away. But the relief would be short-lived. Mordred was one of those voracious things, like pointe shoes or a rollercoaster ride, where when I wasn't with him, he was all I thought about. It was like my mind instantly forgot all the pain his presence caused, and just dreamt of seeing him again. When I would see him, the next day as he walked down the street or when I watched the knights' training sessions with Merlin, all I wanted was for it to stop, for Mordred to go away and leave me in peace. The absence of his presence would stop the lava flow, yes, but as I'm sure you know, lava leaves only destruction in its wake. Without Mordred, I imagined I was a barren wasteland, a husk of a girl filled only with ash and smoke._

* * *

 _I sighed and leaned against my stall heavily. It had been a long, very hot day. I was longing for its end, but I knew that wouldn't bring me any rest. Thoughts of my family and friends, of my_ _other_ _home, were plaguing me relentlessly. If my count was right, it had been just over two months since I'd woken up and found myself in that forest. Two months was an awfully long time to have been missing from my world, and thinking about what must have been going through their heads was painful. I couldn't seem to help it, no matter what else I tried to think about._

 _The day had been as boring as it had been boiling. I looked up, scanning, praying for someone to come along and buy my last few fruits of the day so I could go home. No such luck. The street had been steadily emptying over the past hour, and there wasn't a single soul in sight who looked remotely interested in my stall. The jeweller a few doors down was packing up his stall for the evening, and he gave me a sympathetic wave as he boxed up his wares. The only other people were a lady walking briskly past, who stopped to have a word with the packing jeweller, and a pair of children playing in the dust. I was about to give up, pack up my things, and head for home, when I looked closer at the children. Their play wasn't hugely inspired. They looked hungry and pitiful; they were scrawny, dirty things. The jeweller and woman paid them no mind, and it occurred to me that the kids were probably urchins of some sort. With that in mind, I looked down at my baskets. All I had left was one lonely cucumber and two green apples*. I scooped everything up and stalked over to where the children played._

 _When they heard me walking over, they scrambled backwards over their feet, eyes wide with fright. I can't imagine anyone who had bothered to approach them had been motivated by a half-decent reason. Camelot was a miraculous place, and Arthur's rule had only ever cemented that, but there just wasn't the awareness that there was in my time. I knew that it happened back in the twenty-first century, but I'd like to think someone would have approached these two long before I did. I mean, the girl, who looked older, couldn't have been much more than seven. Honestly!_

 _My suspicions that she was the eldest were confirmed when the little girl placed her even littler brother behind her and glared up at me. I smiled, in spite of myself. She had spirit._

 _"It's alright," I knelt down to their height, even though I was still several paces away. No sense in approaching further if it was only going to frighten them! "I swear that I only want to help." The little boy peeked out from behind his sister, his brown eyes huge in his small face. I gave him a gentle smile. He only stared back in return, but at least he didn't hide again. The girl was still staring at me, though not as fiercely as before, so that was something. Then, both their eyes shifted to the food I was holding out. I whispered, "Would you like to have them?" The boy nodded slowly, and the girl shot him a reprimanding look. She too gave the food another longing, furtive glance though, not seeming to be able to help herself. I scooted a little closer, still holding my gifts out in front of me. "Please," I said, "I can see you are hungry. I want you to take them!" Finally, the girl relented, and cautiously, they ventured forward holding hands. I gave them each an apple and tucked the cucumber into the front pocket of the girl's raggedy dress. "For later," I stated, and she nodded. The boy bit into the fruit right away, but the girl stared at the apple for a long time. I think she couldn't believe what she held in her hands._

 _And then came a very timid, very soft, "Thank you."_

 _I smiled, trying not to let them see the sadness behind it. "You're very welcome!" The little boy, having devoured the apple, ran up to me and wrapped his grubby arms around my neck._

 _"My name is Balan!" he chirped. I hugged him back. He was so frail and tiny, no more than four of five years of age._

 _"My name is Bailey," I replied, and then looked at Balan's sister over his shoulder. "What is your name?" She gulped._

 _"Clarine," came the quiet answer._

 _I repeated, "Clarine. That is a truly beautiful name for a truly beautiful girl!" At this, Clarine flashed a bright smile, and came to stand behind Balan, who had let go of me. I looked at the two smiling faces, wishing I could do more than what I was about to. But I couldn't offer them a home with me, only to then vanish from their lives if I ever did return to modern times. "Well, I have a proposition for you, Clarine, Balan," I looked at them in turn, "See that stall over there?" they nodded, "That's my stall. And it's always there, five days a week!" (I took Saturday and Sunday off, usually to prepare my boxes for the next week and care for my garden, but I had a solution to that possible problem) "Do you think you could find this street again?" more nods, "Alright. I don't have anything left today, but tomorrow, I will have more food," – I planned on bringing more than just fruit – "And I'm going to give it to you!" The children let out jubilant cries. "In fact, I'm sure we could make this a regular occurrence. I'm not here on the weekends, but I will provide enough food to last you the day before. You can find me here every day and get some food. Does this seem fair?" Clarine, completely cured of her wariness, stepped forward and gave me a kiss on the cheek._

 _"More than fair," she whispered disbelievingly._

 _I gave them each a gentle hug, and then they ran off down the street. I stared after them with guilt in my heart. How I wished I could do more for them! I stood, dusting off the front of my dress, and I caught the eye of the lady who had been conversing with the jeweller. She nodded, her eyes a little misty, and smiled appreciatively at me. I assumed she was thanking me for what I had just done for the two children, but in_ _my_ _mind it wasn't enough. And though I was glad she recognized the good deed I'd done, any woman who could afford jewelry from that particular jeweller could have helped them herself. I tried not to feel resentment and anger as I walked back to my stall, but it could not be helped._

 _Not long after I had started packing up, I heard a familiar voice in my head, accompanied by the all-too-familiar lurch of my stomach._

 _"_ _ **Bailey!**_ _" My heart went into whirl-wind-mode, and the lava started up in my veins. I dug my nails into my palms (common practice whenever things were concerning Mordred) and stood stock-still. Let me just say that it took some iron concentration not to give a happy 'whoop!' because of Mordred's contact. Unsurprisingly, the young knight had been another focus of almost all my thoughts today._

 _"_ _ **Mordred**_ _." The happiness in my voice was not easily disguised, especially since it was through telepathy, which was more directly related to what I was thinking. "_ _ **What is it?**_ _"_

 _"_ _ **I have a surprise for you**_ _." I began to tremble, and wound the nearest lock of hair to my face around my finger distractedly._

 _"_ _ **And what manner of surprise exactly are we talking about?**_ _"_

 _"_ _ **A surprising one!**_ _" I could hear the cheeky smile in his voice, and bit my lip to contain one of my own. Mordred continued, "_ _ **You'll have to come and meet me in the field on the outskirts of town to find out.**_ _" My heart and mind had a brief, violent struggle over this piece of news, but as usual, my heart won out._

 _"_ _ **I will be there in ten minutes!**_ _"_

 _"_ _ **Make haste then. I will be waiting anxiously.**_ _" The conversation ended, and I was left to finish packing up with a racing heart and lava for blood._

 _I was there even faster than anticipated, due to the fact that I had run as soon as all my fixings from my stall were safely stowed. Mordred was waiting, seated on a red blanket in the middle of the field, with a picnic basket open. The smell of all sorts of delicious delights wafted to my nose, and my stomach growled. Laughing as Mordred quirked a brow at the noise, I ran over excitedly._

 _"How did you know I was starving?"_

 _"Because I know how hard you work. I figured this would be nicer than going home and having to cook something for yourself."_

 _"It's lovely," I commented as I sat down beside him. "Thank you."_

 _For a while, it was just menial, small talk type conversation. He told me of all the antics the knights had gotten up to today, and I told about Clarine and Balan. Mordred expressed all the same sentiments that I'd been feeling, and although I couldn't reveal the real reason why I couldn't take the pair in, he seemed to understand. It grew quiet after that. We both were clearly hungry, and I was perfectly content to sit in silence and return his occasional smiles as we ate. It was peaceful, and I was incredibly happy, despite the raging tempest within me. I had gotten quite good at ignoring the twisting and burning of my inner workings._

 _Mordred finished the strawberry he'd been munching and looked off at the line of trees to the north._

 _"The queen's birthday is coming up in the next month or so." He seemed nervous for some reason, which only served to increase the pain inside._

 _"Really?" I replied, trying to find the perfect amount of interest, "I'm sure that's a celebration worth remembering!"_

 _Mordred nodded. "Oh yes. The castle staff really do go all out. Arthur has a tournament and a banquet/ball planned, and the entire kingdom has permission for a day off, even if the people can't make the tournament." I smiled. That was just the sort of thing that made Arthur so different from his tyrannical father. One of many. "It will be my first tournament," Mordred went on. "Only the knights of Camelot will compete," I listened worriedly, wondering where this was going, "and apparently each of the knights are allowed to invite a guest, noble or not." This last part was said in a jumbled rush. He looked at me then, just a boy baring his soul in front of a girl, and it suddenly didn't matter where we were, what time frame I was in. I felt all my breath leave me like air leaving a punctured balloon. I turned away, gripping the fabric of my dress tightly. So that's where it had been going! I could feel Mordred's hopeful eyes boring holes into the back of my head. Oh my sweet goodness. What on earth was I going to say? I knew what I wanted to say; more than anything, I wanted to say yes. I had never before been asked to an event like this, and it was a feeling I had dreamt about whenever one came along at my school. But…_

 _Instead of answering his question directly, I asked quietly, without turning back to face him, "Do you think about Kara often?" Even from across the blanket, I could feel Mordred tense his shoulders._

 _"I used to. What does this have to do with-?"_

 _"Just humor me, Mordred!" My voice shook, and that seemed to soften his hurt._

 _"She was the light in an otherwise truly dark time in my past that I tried to avoid thinking about, especially when first I came here. Kara was a good point, but thinking of her always led to more dark thoughts. I tried to push all of it from my mind, so, naturally, she was all I thought about. When I was lonely, as I was often in the beginning of my knighthood, it was awful." Here he paused, and I slowly turned back to face him. There was a fierce spark in Mordred's blue eyes, and he looked at me and said earnestly, "But since you arrived, I've thought about her less and less." His voice grew sad. "She'd changed since I'd last seen her, or, rather,_ _I'd_ _changed and she hadn't at all. Kara's still so full of bitterness and hate, and towards all the things and people I've come to love and appreciate." The spark turned into a full-on blazing, roaring fire, and I found I could not look away. "You're nothing like that. So, no, I don't think of her as much as I used to. Does that answer your question?"_

 _"Y…yes…" I felt ashamed of my own speechlessness, but facing those burning, blue eyes, I was petrified._

 _"Then please do me the curtesy of answering mine!" The tension I'd felt from the beginning sprung up and attacked me. It wasn't an angry tension though, mostly frustrated, nervous and excited, suppressed and hopeful. Sensing my remaining hesitation, Mordred put the actual words out into the air. "Will you be my guest to the queen's birthday banquet Bailey?" The eleven words hung in the air, in the silence that wasn't peaceful at all anymore. The war my mind and heart had fought over coming to this picnic was nothing compared to what I was dealing with now!_

 _Mordred. Guest. Banquet. My mind was screaming at me, coming up with all sorts of reasons to say no, and damningly convincing reasons too. My heart gave a violent push of sorts, and my mind suddenly switched gears. It was now turning out excuses and reasons for me to go, and I knew my heart had made an executive decision._

 _My mind had relented, so I said the only words I was really capable of: "I would love to!"_

* * *

 _Merely days after that eventful picnic, I was doing some house cleaning when there came a knock on the door. I opened it to find Queen Guinevere, accompanied by a whole host of what appeared to be seamstresses and knights. Surprised, I drew back, and then hastily dropped into a curtsey that had almost been forgotten._

 _"Your Majesty!" I stammered. "What a pleasant surprise!" The Queen on my doorstep smiled gently, and I was so reminded of her goodness that I forgot my fear and shock altogether._

 _"Bailey, I'm so sorry to barge in on you, but I wanted to pay a visit. May I come in?" I blushed, opening the door fully to allow her in. Gwen walked stately through, followed by her travelling troupe of maids or dressers or whatever they were. The guards remained outside. After all were through, I closed the door with slightly shaky hands._

 _"I haven't been back here in years," Gwen exclaimed to no one in particular. Then she turned, making it clear she was speaking to me. "It suits you though. Do you like it?" I nodded vigorously._

 _"I couldn't have possibly been happier anywhere else, my lady." That was very true. I felt very at home in Gwen's old house. It was close to everything I needed, and to the castle, and was the perfect size for a tiny girl like me. The occasional wistful thought about my own room back at 6 Mosby Place was to be expected, but didn't ever stay long, or, if it did, was not well received. "I'm so greatly in your debt, Your Majesty," I continued._

 _Guinevere smirked, and it was somehow teasing and amused and elegant all in one. "I don' believe I'm the one you owe anything to." At her words, I was greatly confused._

" _But…"_

" _Bailey_ _!" She was definitely mocking me now, however kindly. "This was not my idea. Mordred came to me at a very late hour the night before I met you, asking if I still had my father's house." She continued to gaze about with a mixture of amusement, grief, and longing on her face. I imagined coming back was fairly hard for her, what with all the memories of her father and brother, of a different life that seemed so far in the past but wasn't really. "It technically still belonged to me, even if I hadn't come back since Elyan…" she shook herself from the memories, continuing, "Mordred wanted to buy it off of me, and was hesitant to tell me why. When he finally did, I had Arthur organize our meeting so I could decide for myself if you were the kind of person I wanted living here." I was staring, in absolute shock. Gwen laughed. "Mordred was still trying to offer me more money, even after I'd decided you could have this house. It has been empty and falling into disrepair for too long now."_

 _Oh. My. God. Oh my GOD! I didn't even know what to think, and I couldn't process this right now with the Queen in front of me. Mordred would definitely be hearing about this though, I was sure of that._

 _I was silent, flabbergasted. Gwen was silent, with a sad smile on her face._

 _"Should I set the parcel down here, my lady?" This quiet question, from a pretty, young maid, brought both the Queen and I back to our senses._

 _"Yes, that's perfect, thank you." Gwen gave me an excited smile and went over to the table, where the maid was setting down a simply-wrapped package that I hadn't given much thought to before now. "This, however, was entirely my doing!" I watched curiously as Gwen began unwrapping it, her back towards me. "Bailey, is it true that you're to be Mordred's guest at my birthday banquet?"_

 _"What?!" I gasped. Then I blushed, after realizing that my manners had flown the coop with that response. She just chuckled, still busy with the wrapping._

 _"He's very excited about it. That boy is so serious sometimes. I'm so glad you make him that happy," Gwen paused, smiling over her shoulder at me, "and that he has such good taste!" Recalling my discussion with Mordred my first night in this house, and how close Gwen's statement was to it, I flushed even brighter._

 _I protested, "Really, Your Majesty, we're just friends!"_

 _She stopped me right there. "I've seen the way you two look at each other! Why can't you just admit your feelings for him? It made my life so much easier once I finally admitted mine for Arthur!" Ah, there came the lava blood, the roiling stomach and the ache so fierce, familiar, and fresh that I almost welcomed it as an old friend. I dug my nails into my palms, and recited:_ _Kara, destiny, home_ _. That was my mantra to remind myself why coming clean to Mordred would end in utter disaster. I smiled sadly at Gwen._

 _I wanted to confide in her so badly! But as that wasn't possible, I just replied quietly, "I'm afraid it's awfully complicated…" and looked down at the stone floor, unable to see the disappointment in her eyes. I heard a soft rustle, and in spite of myself, looked back up. Gwen had finally finished unwrapping the parcel on the table, and was holding a beautiful, green silk dress._

 _"There would be no shame in wearing this little beauty to the ball and perhaps making Mordred's night brighter then, would there?" The dress was just the right shade of green for me and my fair colouring. I knew that I would be striking in it. It was embroidered with gold thread, as well as bright diamonds and glittering emeralds. I was struck dumb by the Queen's kindness, but there was a problem. As I stared at the gorgeous dress, I realized I recognized it._

 _"It is truly a magnificent dress, Your Majesty, but…" I bit my lip. Gwen waited me out patiently, "it belonged to the Lady Morgana, didn't it?" Her surprise in my knowing that was clear, but she handled it well._

 _"Yes. But that doesn't mean that you cannot wear it!" I could see that she was persistent. And I wanted to at least try on the beauty and see myself in it. I made one last attempt, weak though it was._

 _"Won't Arthur recognize it? Won't anyone?" Gwen thought for a moment, before another sad smile crossed her lips._

 _"Arthur won't at all. He's about as observant awake as when he is sleeping," the Queen of Camelot and I shared a chuckle, "and if anyone else recognizes it, they won't be in a position to complain or put up a fuss."_

 _"I'm thankful, Your Majesty, and honored, but why do you want me to wear this dress? You and I both know I could find a perfectly decent one somewhere in the city." Perhaps questioning the Queen was too forward, but Gwen wasn't just any queen. She was kind, and good, and incredibly smart. I figured there were other reasons for her to bring me this dress, besides her obvious shipping of Mordred and me._

 _"I don't want you to wear a perfectly decent dress, I want you to wear a_ _perfect_ _dress! It's a special night, your first banquet and all!" I nodded, but continued to stare at her. Gwen ran her pointer finger across the gems around the neckline. "And I suppose," she softly amended, "that I wanted to see at least one of the dresses worn one last time…" The regret and wistfulness in Guinevere's voice went straight to my heart. The betrayal I had experienced, watching Morgana grow twisted and dark, had to be nothing compared to what Gwen had felt, having to stop the witch who had once been one of her closest friends. "It gets lonely, you know, being the only woman of any real power at court. I miss Morgana occasionally, I miss the friend and mistress I once had. The thought that she is out there, plotting against us all, makes me terribly sad." She shook her head. "I don't really remember feeling…_ _anything_ _while under Morgana's control, but maybe it was nice to have her back again, even if it was a lie. Arthur draws strength from the knowledge of Morgana's awful deeds, though I know that he misses her as well. But he has the knights and Merlin, and while I have them as well, it just isn't the same!" Gwen looked down at the dress, now laid out, shimmering, on the table. When she looked back up at me, there were tears in the corner of her eyes. My heart went out to her, and without even thinking about it, I wrapped her in a tight hug. Queen Guinevere didn't bat an eyelash at my rash act; she returned the embrace just as tightly._

 _We remained like that for a moment, clinging to one another. The ache of losing a friend and remembrances of happy times passed had grown fresh in my heart with Gwen's admissions (though none of my former friends were evil sorceresses!)_

 _"I'll wear it, Gwen," I whispered, as we pulled apart. She nodded briskly and dabbed a hanky at her eyes._

 _"Thank you."_

 _The rest of the afternoon was spent fitting the dress for me. The hem would need several inches taken off, as Morgana had been tall and stately, but other than that, the dress fit remarkably well. A couple take-ins at the shoulders and hips were necessary, but that was about all else needed. Gwen and I spent the afternoon talking and laughing while the maids bustled about with pins and needles and fabric. It was probably the first afternoon I had spent not thinking about the twenty-first century and/or Mordred since I had arrived here. A tidal wave of relief and release of stress washed over me. Almost two months of guilt, sadness, longing, and happiness could take such a toll on a person! I was surprised by how natural an afternoon spent with the wife of King Arthur (as her maids fitted me for a ball gown) felt. Surprised, thankful, and simply amazed._

 _Finally, as the light began to wane outside the windows and my heels ached from standing for so long, Guinevere declared the maids done and spun me to face the mirror. I sucked in a gasp. The girl standing in front of me looked like she'd stepped out of a Disney cartoon. My hair spilled over my shoulders in waves, having grown that much longer in the time I'd been here, and it caught the fading sunlight in its copper strands. My pale skin was a stark contrast to the emerald green and to my red hair. The dress itself tapered at my waist, making it look even tinier and made my slim shoulders and neck stand out. The cleavage caused me to blush profusely, but even that was a cause for happiness and indulgence. Gwen caught my eye, which was now watering from all the kindness, and she nodded approvingly._

 _"You look like a princess!"_

 _"Thank you," I breathed, still not quite convinced that the girl I saw was really me. Gwen's smile took on some mischievous curves, and I felt my blush grow even though I knew not what she was about to say._

 _"I'm sure Mordred will appreciate it greatly!" I shot her a quick glare, but it wasn't very heartfelt. It couldn't be, not after this beautiful gift and the fact that she was right. He would. He would be enchanted, and the fact I shouldn't do that to him if I was going to keep a distance nagged at me. But I was selfish, so I indulged the want that was now burning inside, a want I'm sure burns inside all girls in any century. I wanted to feel special and important, like royalty, and dance the night away with someone I cared about, with my knight in shining armour. I could worry about my morals after. Surely I deserved this small moment with Mordred. He would just have to resist temptation!_

 _My gaze roved over my reflection once again. Breathtaking. I smiled, and then told Gwen I was ready to put the dress I'd been wearing before back on (there were too many dresses in Camelot, princess-like or not. I really missed jeans and sweats and leggings!) She nodded to the maids, and they got to work on the arduous task of freeing me from Morgana's former dress._

 _Another hour or so later, I was once again looking like a normal citizen of Camelot. Gwen promised she would be back to deliver the dress once the minor adjustments had been made._

 _"Please don't forget about summoning me when you have some applicants Gwen," I reminded her as I walked her to the door. During our many conversations this afternoon, Clarine and Balan had come up. Gwen, being the wonderful person she was, promised to hold a somewhat job interview for citizens able to take the pair in. Thanks to my food, they no longer looked so waifish, but guilt about how much I was failing as a guardian haunted our every meeting. Gwen had also assured me that I would be present at the parent-screening (so to speak) because I knew them the best and would know what the right fit was for them._

 _"Thank you again, for everything."_

 _Gwen smiled and nodded. "Of course. Any time." She paused on her way out. "I knew you were a good person the minute I saw you and Mordred together, Bailey. I think there was a reason for your arrival in Camelot, one that we just haven't seen yet." I stared, thinking of Mordred and Kara and the Battle of Camlann that I had averted, at least for the time being. "If you'll take one piece of advice from me," Gwen went on, "then please talk to Mordred." I said nothing. That was the one thing that I wanted most in all the world and that was the one thing I would not let myself do. "Please!" she implored, "I can't stand to see both of you so miserable when honesty would just solve everything!" 'Not everything,' I thought, but nodded half-heartedly in assent to my new friend. Let her think that I would at least consider her words. Guinevere gave me one last hug, and then she and her entourage left._

 _My house seemed more quiet than usual with the sudden absence of people, and I felt the flare of longing for Mordred or my family or my friends - for anybody really - but pushed it down into my stomach. I kept myself occupied that night with dreams of me in Morgana's green dress, and of dancing with Mordred's toned arms around me._

* * *

 *** I'm really not sure what kind of vegetables (if any) they would have had, probably not what I have here. However, no one ever said fanfiction was writing that had to be historically accurate :) I also know they never had any balls or dances or what have you on the show, and I just took liberties with what I wanted for the plot's sake. Recently though, I watched a Merlin episode that did mention dancing, though if what I describe in the next chapter is accurate or not, your guess is as good as mine.**

 **Yay! Six chapters! Many, many thanks to padfootlove for the follow, and to Royiah (though I've already thanked you, I'll just keep on doing it!) for the review! I tried to address some of the things we talked about, and you'll see some more of that in the next chapter.**

 **I love this story so much, and the fact that there are those of you reading it means more than I can say. If anyone knows who the artist is that sang the song whose title is my chapter title, I applaud you!**

 **Phew! That was a long chapter and speech from me. Next week's is even longer though (God I love the angst so much!)**


	7. Queen Guinevere's Birthday Bash

***WARNING***

 **This chapter is long. Like, loooooong. Like, double the length of my longest so far, and for that, I apologize. I just couldn't find a decent place to split it up; I like it so much as it is.**

 **Other warnings: swearing and angst (sooooooo much angst!)**

 **This is also probably a good time to remind everyone I don't own Merlin and don't make a profit from any of this. If I did own Merlin, it would still be running. Now, TO CAMELOT!**

* * *

 _7_

 _Queen Guinevere's Birthday Bash_

 _Clarine's hand tightened on my knee as the knight fell from his horse. His armor rattled something terribly as he hit the ground._

 _"Will he be alright?" the little girl asked. Her eyes were wide and worried._

 _"I'm sure he will," I reassured her. "Look, he's standing up now, good as new!" The knight was actually wavering a little, but he was on his feet and walked steadily, if slowly, from the arena. Clarine smiled and happily clapped._

 _The tournament was unlike anything I had ever witnessed before. The crowd was as tightly strung as a guitar string, wound up so on the tension and excitement that I was surprised no one had snapped yet. It was the day of Gwen's birthday, and there wasn't a cloud in the sky. It was the perfect recipe for a jousting tournament, and the perfect set up for the ball and banquet to follow later this evening._

 _Balan squirmed on the other side of his sister, obviously impatient for the next match to get started. Elaine shushed him by procuring another sweet pastry from her satchel. We shared a look over the kids bobbing heads._

 _The moment Elaine had come to Gwen and me in answer to our announcement, I had known she was perfect material. She was a middle-aged woman who hadn't ever married because no man had ever stuck around once they found that she couldn't have kids. My heart had just gone out to her, and so had Gwen's, both of us wanting to become mothers eventually. And she had clicked with the kids right away. My initial worries about finding a parental figure for my little friends were that they had serious trust issues with adults (wouldn't you?) and had been on their own for so long that I was worried they might resent any rules that Elaine would have imposed upon them. Thankfully, a number of things worked in our favor: Elaine was completely understanding about the whole matter, and eased them in slowly; both Clarine and Balan were young enough to have not developed too much pride; and neither had more than vague ideas and memories about what having parents was like, so they had no expectations. Over the course of the past couple weeks, Elaine and I had become friends, and Clarine and Balan had formed close bonds with their adoptive mother. With both of us, and Gwen, looking out for their welfare, brother and sister had thrived. They had both filled out, and Balan was hitting a growth spurt. They were exceedingly happy, a fact that made me exceedingly happy as well._

 _"Hurray!" Balan cheered, as the crowd went wild at the entrance of their king. "I'm cheering for him," he whispered conspiratorially to his sister. She nodded, smiling in agreement._

 _Then Clarine said to me, "He's very handsome."_

 _I bit my lip to avoid exploding in laughter and nodded. "Most knights are, honey."_

 _Clarine copied my nod, looking far too serious and wise. "Which one is taking you to the ball tonight again?" I flushed and pointed to where a familiar, curly head stood off to the side by the tents. "Oh, he's handsome too!" I was beyond relieved when the match started and distracted her. She had been a little too close to the mark for my liking, with her sparkling eyes and knowing smile. The girl was only seven for God's sake!_

 _The kids had actually met Mordred once, though they had both been awfully shy. We had taken them with us on our customary walk about the city one day._

 _You see, Mordred had taken his role as my guide to the city very seriously, and despite our first foray that first day, he was exposing the entire city to me bit by bit. I could tell he took great pride in revealing it all to me, as he had once been new here himself. He showed me all his favourite haunts, shops and markets and squares, specific streets, like where all the tradesmen worked and stuff like that._

 _The walks were our way of bonding and getting to know each other. You might ask what on Earth we could talk about, or what we had in common, as I could not disclose many fundamental things about who I was, and, believe me, that rested heavy on my conscience, but I made do. We talked about everything and nothing, and all I learned about Mordred only seemed to draw me in further. I couldn't tell you what specifically about him and all he said was intriguing and appealing; it was every little thing and more. There was the physical attraction certainly, but it was so much more than that. It was in the way his eyes glowed when he saw something he liked, or the way he smiled self-consciously unless he was completely ecstatic or I surprised it out of him. Mordred was…well, just the fact that he_ _was_ _was enough to send me whirling._

 _I flinched as a noise rose from the crowd, drawing me out of my thoughts and back to the tournament._

 _Arthur defeated his opponent with ease, much to the crowd's delight. I cast a quick look at Merlin in relief. Most of the tournaments on the show had involved someone trying to kill Arthur or Uther or both. Apparently, that wasn't always true. Merlin gave me a nod, and then I was distracted as the next opponents approached to mount their horses._

 _"That's the knight who's taking Bailey to the ball tonight!" Clarine announced loudly. Balan was too busy munching on his treat, but Elaine shot me an appreciative glance. I blushed, then turned back to watch the match with a knotted stomach._

 _Mordred had done very well in his first tournament, and was taking the crowd by storm with his shy smile and black curls. He had jousted against two relatively decent knights and won without much trouble. That didn't stop my heart from echoing in my ears or my chest tightening up until he got through unscathed however. I clenched my fists, nails digging into my palms._

 _"_ _ **Mordred**_ _," I called telepathically. The knight looked up in surprise and met my eyes. "_ _ **Good luck**_ _," I finished, hoping that he didn't catch the waver in my (mental) voice. He turned away from me, not wanting to arouse suspicion by staring for so long._

 _He replied, "_ _ **Well now you've gone and done it!**_ _"_

 _"_ _ **Done what?**_ _" I knew Mordred was smirking even though his back was to me._

 _"_ _ **The pressure is on now that I know a pretty girl is rooting for me!**_ _" I sucked in a deep breath. Mordred, of late, had become bolder and bolder in our conversations, even as I drew farther away. He taunted me with his flirting, and I was sure he knew how it got under my skin. It had started when I reluctantly confronted about him buying Gwen's house for me. I had actually gone up to the castle to look for him, and had wound up waiting outside his room for him to return from a patrol._

 _"Mordred," I'd said as soon as he had appeared with a bemused smile on his face, as I was eager to get this over and done with, "why did you not tell me you'd bought Gwen's house from her?" He'd flinched in obvious surprise._

 _"How did you…?"_

 _"The Queen told me. Now, why? And why did you do it in the first place? You didn't even know me then!"_

 _I laughed to myself in the stands, remembering the complete deer-in-headlights look on his face._

 _Something had come over him then, something new I'd had yet to see from him, a sly and wicked gleam in his eye._

 _He'd then said, in a sudden deep voice that made my insides all shuddery, "But I wanted to know you."_

 _This new flirting was another entirely new side of him, manipulative and devilish, but with a cunning undertone I couldn't help but admire. He knew exactly what to say to worm his way into my thoughts (as if he didn't feature enough there to begin with!) but I would be lying if I said I didn't do the same. We were competing in a chess game of wits, one made all the more difficult by the fact that he could go from sly to shy in seconds, and that I could go from reserved to playful instantly. All that remained to be seen was who would snap first._

 _"_ _ **You've captured the attentions of some poor young maid, have you? And she can also communicate telepathically?"**_ _I asked, returning to my current conversation,_ _ **"Guess it's more of a common trait then I thought!**_ _" The one thing that always got a rise out of my cheeky knight was refusing to acknowledge the implications behind his words. Rising to the bait always just made him more persistent, so I'd learned to dangle some bait of my own. Today, however, Mordred surprised me by replying simply back._

 _"_ _ **I just meant to say that your support means much, and that there is no one whom I want to impress more, Bailey.**_ _"_

 _"_ _ **Not even your king?**_ _"_

 _"_ _ **Well…maybe he and you are tied.**_ _" I bit my lip, knowing he could tell when I was smiling just as well as I could tell when he was._

 _"_ _ **I know. But**_ _ **you**_ _ **know that you don't have to win a jousting match to impress me.**_ _" The other voice was silent for a long while. That was the most straightforward I'd been about my feelings in weeks. I was a little shocked that I had said that, but chocked it down to Mordred's surprisingly honest answer. I had rewarded him with honesty of my own, and a good thing too, because I wanted him to be as focused as possible for his match. The one thing he wasn't when we were flirting was focused (on other things, at least.)_

 _"_ _ **I must go. The match is about to begin.**_ _" I felt my stomach clench._

 _"_ _ **Don't get injured please. I want to get in a couple dances.**_ _" Well, I didn't see the point in not being truthful now that I had been._

 _"_ _ **Wouldn't dream of it.**_ _"_

 _"_ _ **I mean it, Mordred! Please be careful.**_ _"_

 _"_ _ **I will. Thank you. Don't you worry!**_ _" I leaned back in my seat as both Mordred and his opponent mounted their horses. Mordred cast one last look up into the stands, and when he was positive I was watching, gave a careful wink. My breath hitched as he put his helmet on. 'I'm going to have an aneurism before this is over!' I wailed internally. As if Clarine could hear what I was internally wailing, she reached over and grabbed my hand. I put my arm around her as a way of thanks, and we sat back to watch the match unfold._

 _It turned out that I had been worried for nothing. Mordred won after one round, and won his next three matches after that. In fact, the person who finally knocked him off his horse was none other than Sir Leon, the only top knight (according to both Gwen and Mordred) who didn't appear to like and/or trust me, though he had yet to actually meet me (a fact that was more crushingly disappointing than you might think). I, however, knew Leon well enough to know that he had won through talent and not some dirty trick. Still, my heart lept into my throat as my knight in shining armor fell._

 _"_ _ **Mordred!**_ _" The silence between my outcry and his response couldn't have been more than a few seconds, but as they ticked by, an eternity passed._

 _"_ _ **Your concern means much.**_ _" It was a slightly breathless and tense response, but a response nonetheless._

 _"_ _ **Well, I really don't want to miss out on the food at this party tonight. I hear it's to die for!**_ _" Mordred leaned his head back down on the ground, eyes shut against the pain. But he was smiling cheekily, and got to his feet mere seconds later. He was so popular, the crowd cheered and gave him a standing ovation as he headed off towards the tents. He glanced back at me. I rolled my eyes, but I was one of the first standing and cheering._

 _"_ _ **I'll see you in the main corridor at dusk then?**_ _"_

 _"_ _ **You shall. I'll suffer through the rest of this tournament until then, without you popping in now and again to entertain me. It will be torture.**_ _" Warning bells went off in my head, but I tactfully ignored them. 'Let me have this one moment,' I thought. Mordred's voice was even more breathless, tense and yet soft, as he replied, and this time, I didn't think it was from the pain of falling from a horse._

 _"_ _ **I half-wish I had won. What a day that would have been! Winning the first tournament I partook in and taking a beautiful girl to my first ball? I think I would have died from sheer joy and amazement!**_ _"_

 _"_ _ **Ah well, you can't have everything.**_ _" My own mental voice was strained, and my ears were ringing. His blunt statement was already replaying in the back of my mind, sure to haunt me in many hours later to come._

 _"_ _ **Indeed you can't.**_ _" Then he finally exited the arena, taking what little of my breath was left with him._

* * *

 _As I prepared for the ball/banquet, I felt like Cinderella. I felt a little like I was playing dress up in something much too old and grand for a kid like me to pull off. I felt a lot like throwing up. Luckily for me, I did not. I was just about to leave for the castle when an eager knock sounded at the door. This I opened to find Merlin grinning sheepishly at me._

 _"Merlin! What a pleasant surprise!"_

 _The warlock scuffed his toe in the dust, before saying laughingly, "I'm under strict orders from more than one person at the castle who ranks higher than me to escort you to the ball." I stared for a few minutes._

 _"That's really not necessary…I mean, it's right there!" I gestured to the white giant that was the castle, who kept watch basically from my doorstep it was that close. Merlin shrugged. Seeing that it was somewhat pointless and ungrateful to argue, I shrugged as well, taking his proffered arm and closing my door behind us._

 _"You ready?" he asked, with a mischievous gleam in his eyes._

 _"As I'll ever be!"_

 _Merlin kept me occupied with a mindless stream of chatter, in true Merlin fashion of course. He complained about Arthur being a prat, and Gaius working him too hard, when it was clear how much he cared for both men; he told crazy stories about the knights' antics; and even mentioned that Kilgharrah had been too cryptic in their last meeting, which had been a while ago now. I listened intently enough, for the tales kept me from fleeing or puking or both. Merlin's solid, reassuring presence helped too. That is, it helped until we entered the main corridor (in front of the throne room) and I saw Mordred waiting for us in his finery. I stopped mid sentence and mid stride. My feet grew roots, simply so I could take him in without fainting dead away._

 _Mordred wore a formal blue shirt, with gold accents, wonderful, tight-fitting breeches, and fine boots polished to such a shine that I had to look away. No breath came, no thoughts surfaced, nothing could be heard but the roaring of my heartbeat in my ears. I was aware of none of this, until Merlin cleared his throat noisily. I remained stock-still, although part of me registered that Mordred was as floored by my appearance as I was by his. Merlin cleared his throat again, and this time, Mordred reacted. He ran up to us, no longer frozen. In fact, he was buoyed by nervous energy, which was very unlike him. I had the presence of mind to remove my arm from Merlin's, and thank him for escorting me as he walked off to attend to Arthur. He smiled in return, and winked before skirting around to the servants' entrance for the banquet. Mordred smiled an angelic smile, and I smiled back as my heart pounded. At the receiving end of my smile, he froze again, or, at least, all of his nervous energy drained away. Moving with intensity, he took my hand and kissed it. Unlike the time Gwaine had done the same, my whole body went white with flame, the fiery tendrils licking up my arms and leaving delicious pain in their wake._

 _Then Mordred breathed, "You look stunning." He took my arm like Merlin had, and I felt a thrill. My hand was alternating between hot and cold where his lips had touched it._

" _You look pretty incredible yourself," I replied. We remained staring at each other, and would have remained so the rest of the night, if I had not forced myself to ask if we should go in._

" _Yes," Mordred gave himself a slight shake. "After you!" The doors opened with a creak. Arm and arm with the knight of my dreams (literally!) I prepared for the night of my life._

 _As we entered the throne room, I was not quite sure that I had not been transported to yet another different time frame. It was so changed from the still, somewhat daunting room I had seen on my tour with Mordred! The round table had been moved, and though it was dusk outside, the room was bright from many candles and torches. Arthur and his queen sat on the far side, in thrones that looked much less imposing now that they had occupants, and the other guests were seated around the room at tables arranged in a square-like fashion. It was clear not everyone had arrived yet, but the room was already ringing with happy voices._

 _We took it all in, Mordred and I, then looked at each other in amazement._

" _This is either the most thrilling, or the most terrifying, thing I've ever done!" I whispered to him._

 _There was a slight smirk on his lips, but his eyes betrayed that he was feeling the same. "I propose we wait a little on our diagnosis." I nodded, still gazing around at all the activity. My eyes caught Gwen's down at the other end of the room, and she waved us over excitedly._

" _We are being summoned by the birthday girl, Mordred. We best make our way over there." He nodded and we walked down to our king, his queen, and three of their most trusted knights. At the sight of the knights, my stomach tightened a fraction. I'd already met Gwaine, but Leon and Percival were more beloved characters I had yet to come face-to-face with, and Leon, well… Mordred's grip on my arm tightened a fraction too. I drew comfort from the fact that he was nervous about introducing me and the barrage of teasing sure to follow._

" _Ah, and here comes young Mordred after a magnificent first tournament, and his lovely guest Bailey!" Arthur called as he noticed us approaching. "Welcome and good evening to you both."_

" _And a good evening to you, sire," Mordred replied. Then he said, "Lads, may I introduce my guest and good friend, Bailey. Bailey, Sir Percival and Sir Leon. You've already met Gwaine." I nodded to Gwaine, who winked at me. I managed not to blush, and said hello to the other two. Percival was even larger then he was on TV but he gave me a gentle smile. Leon nodded, albeit rather stiffly, and had a shrewd look for Mordred and me that told me he was just as keen as Gwen had been. Percival gave me a look like, 'Don't mind him,' and I felt a little better. Then, I felt Mordred stumble a little as an already slightly inebriated Gwaine threw his arm around him._

" _Didn't Mordred just do spectacularly in his first tournament today?" the older knight asked. Everyone nodded. He laughed at Mordred's shy embarrassment and peered around him at me. "What did you think from the stands, fair lady?" I gave Gwaine a look, but replied all the same._

" _I thought he had many fabulous matches, Sir Gwaine, I'm only thankful that Sir Leon beat him before he went against you," I threw a teasing glare in for emphasis, "or the king!"_

 _Arthur, hearing himself mentioned, chimed in, "You all did marvellously, especially you, Mordred. I'm proud to see how far you've come since the beginning of your training." Mordred blushed, though I knew he was pleased, and endured the round of petting and hearty teasing that went around after._

" _And now you're attending your first ball," Percival resumed, "Do you intend to dance up a storm?" I jumped in then, feeling more confident with each passing minute._

" _I couldn't say if Mordred does, but I know I do!" I then had to promise him and Gwaine at least one dance each, which I suppose I had brought upon myself. By the time I was done with all that, the rest of the guests had arrived and the food was being laid out on decadent, steaming platters. My stomach growled, and I hoped no one heard._

 _The dance-related teasing had stopped, but as he led me over to our seats at the table to the right of Arthur (a place of great honour) Mordred telepathically whispered, "_ _ **I hope there's still room for a dance with me**_ _." I turned then, and looked up into his big blue eyes. His voice hadn't let on if he was really worried or not, but a vulnerable sincerity was what I found in their depths._

" _Of course there is," I whispered aloud. "Always."_

* * *

 _Dinner was an interesting affair. The food was as wonderful as I had heard, and the company even more so. I sat between Mordred (to my right) and Percival (to my left) because the large knight hadn't brought a guest. Leon and his companion of several years sat down by the King and Queen, and Gwaine sat on Percival's other side, laughing up a storm and generally causing trouble. I had marvelous conversations, and answered plenty of questions about my impressions of Camelot and her court. I told them, very honestly, that the city was unlike any place I'd_ _ever_ _been to. Huge emphasis on ever!_

 _Somewhere between courses three and four, as we were all laughing at Arthur telling an exaggerated tale of how Merlin had ruined an entire day of hunting with his clumsiness, I had a strange moment of reflection. I thought, 'Is this really happening? I'm at a banquet as a guest to one of the most amazing knights, and listening to King Arthur complain about Merlin. How on Earth did this come about?' Mordred looked at me then, a laugh issuing from his mouth. His lips momentarily distracted me, and I lost my train of thought. He must have noticed the look of intense contemplation on my face though, because he took my hand gently in his own. I smiled up at him, completely and utterly happy. But then, I felt my face heat up and knew I had to look away._

" _What about Bailey and Mordred?" At the sound of my name, I realized I had not heard a word of the current conversation for the last couple minutes._

" _I'm sorry, pardon?" I asked._

" _We were discussing how the King and Queen met. We were all there when Leon met Elsa, and Gwaine's always introducing us to his new conquests. So how did you two meet?" Percival inquired, as a way of response. I felt a flare of panic, but it was unnecessary._

" _We grew up near each other," Mordred cut in smoothly, which was a blatant lie (as you well know.) "But I hadn't seen her in years when she came to me about two and a half months ago, saying that one of our close friends was in need of our help. You can imagine how happy I was after it was resolved and she told me she was staying in Camelot." It was a pretty vague answer, one I never would have gotten away with back home, but the knights (even Leon) took it in stride. And it wasn't like they had reasons to doubt either of us, but I felt a little nauseated by how easy it was for Mordred to lie to people he was so close to. Of course, the answer "Bailey showed up in the forest about two and a half months ago. She can see the future, and she prevented my childhood girlfriend from being killed by your king," would not have gone over well. And even that was a crazy lie!_

" _Who are you to talk, Bailey?" reprimanded my inner voice, "You're lying to Mordred even as you criticize him for doing the same! And why? For the same reasons he is! To protect you, and everyone else!" I grabbed fistfuls of my silky skirt, angry at myself, at Mordred and at all the twisted complications my life consisted of at the moment. And then, Mordred's hand, once again, found mine (even through the folds of my skirt.) He soothed out my fists and my anger with his gentle and careful touch._

" _ **I don't like lying to them either, but we don't have much of a choice do we?**_ _" I squeezed his hand to let him know that his mental reassurance had been received._

 _Received, and appreciated._

 _No, we had no choice at all in our convoluted lies. None at all._

 _The rest of dinner passed smoothly. Before long, we were simply sitting and talking._

" _Its been awhile since I've seen any food out here at all, Arthur," Gwen cast a winning smile around the room. She really was an amazing, bright person, and an incredible queen. Arthur clasped her hand. I smiled, glad that he so clearly knew that. Gwen continued, "Why don't we remove these tables and have the musicians strike up a melody?"_

" _Why, that's the best suggestion I've heard all night!" Arthur nodded to the servants standing by to clear the hall of tables, and they jumped to action. I felt my muscles tense in anticipation. Dancing was something that was ingrained in my blood. I had spent a couple afternoons with Mordred, Merlin and Gaius, with the latter two teaching us novices some of the more complicated dances, and I was ready to show off all that I had learned. Trying to be surreptitious, I rolled my feet around a little to warm them up, but because he was standing so close, Mordred noticed. He glanced over at me, the cutest, slightly nervous smile tugging at his lips that I'd ever seen. Then, the first strains of the orchestra tuning their instruments and warming up reached both pairs of our ears, and the nervous smile blossomed into a full-blown ray of sunshine. I giggled an excited giggle._

" _There's nothing like the sound of an orchestra tuning," I whispered to my future dance partner, "It's a sure guarantee something great is about to happen!"_

" _Attention, merry guests! My wife has decreed that it is now the time for some spry dancing, to make up for all the weight gained at this fabulous feast we have hosted." The crowd laughed at Arthur's genial announcement. He let the chuckles peter out before continuing, "So, musicians, strike up some gay refrain! The night's only beginning, ladies and gentlemen!" With that lively que, the orchestra started the fast-paced music for one of the more popular dances, one that involved lots of circles and partner changes. Mordred and I exchanged excited glances, taking it all in before he led me out on the floor. I took a deep breath, positive that my lungs would be hard pressed to keep my air supply up for the remainder of the evening. If the first half had been any indication, I was in for one wild ride. I was going to need all the breath I could get!_

* * *

" _Whoo!" I spun around and around, Gwaine's infectious laugh and merriness catching on as he twirled me round. My head was reeling, and all that remained of the throne room was a blur of colours. I was frantically using every trick in the book I knew regarding turns and spotting, but I had never been (and never would be) a fabulous turner. Finally, the orchestra wrapped up with one last huge chord. The crowd applauded, and Gwaine put an arm out to steady me, although he could have used some steadying himself. Dizzily, we made our way back to the table, where Leon handed me a class of cool water somewhat begrudgingly. Gwaine thanked me as I sat down to regain some of my breath and cool my cheeks, then stumbled off, probably in search of more wine._

 _My gaze sought out Mordred. He was bowing gracefully to a pretty courtier's daughter whom he'd just finished dancing with. Because he most likely felt eyes on him, he looked up and saw me. I smiled, breathless and hot though I was, positive that I was a sweaty mess. Mordred, however, appeared not to see any of that. He sucked in a deep breath, and his eyes darkened with an emotion I couldn't name. I didn't,_ _couldn't_ _, look away. I waited to see what he would do next._

 _Mordred started across the floor with purpose, and my heart sped up. We had only gotten in a couple of dances together before the knights started pleading with me to grant them a few, and those couple of dances had been formal and involved switching partners occasionally. While the other knights were wonderful dancers (Percival was so gentle and attentive, and Gwaine had enough energy to spur on the both of us) Mordred_ _was_ _the one I'd come to dance with._

 _And he was hurrying over now. I doubted it felt very good to sit out while I had been flying across the floor. Plenty of ladies were taken with his sweet eyes and black curls, but he was shy and very often declined their offers._

 _I was half-way out of my chair when a brunette in a striking red dress grabbed Mordred and pulled him onto the floor. He tried to protest, but the girl was insistent and the music was already playing. Over her shoulder as they spun, he cast me an apologetic glance. I shrugged, as if to say: it's fine! I danced with other men, he was free to dance with other girls, but I'll admit I didn't really mean it. No, sitting out didn't feel good at all!_

 _To do him even more credit (or less, depending on your perspective) Mordred had eyes mostly for me while he was dancing. I watched them twirl, trying very hard not to look like I was fuming, and smirking at the faces Mordred made over his partner's shoulder. From what I could see, she was quite the talker. I suppose she was spewing forth enough conversation for the both of them, as Mordred barely said two words to her. That's right lady, you may have gotten this dance, but I was the one who would spend the remainder of the night dancing in his arms! At that, all my intestines knotted into some guilt-induced twists. I honestly didn't deserve the way Mordred treated me, not after the distance I'd been putting him through. The longer I remained in Camelot, and the longer our friendship held strong, the guiltier I became at my dishonesty and holding back. I argued with myself day in and day out, but always came back to the same conclusion: I would rather go through this than cause undue hardship to Mordred or turn him evil. Though the dancing boy in front me looked nothing like the traitor who stabbed Arthur, the smallest possibility that he could change for the worse had to be acknowledged._

 _Finally, I could tell the dance was coming to a close. That had felt like the longest five minutes of my life! I waited in anticipation as the last measures of music were played, planning to launch myself from my chair the minute they faded out. But even as the echoes were still dying, I felt a hand on my shoulder._

" _Sire!" a very drunk Gwaine called across the room. Arthur turned with a bemused smile._

" _Yes, Gwaine?_

" _You are the only one of us top knights not to have danced with the lovely Miss Bailey over here. We must rectify this immediately!" I glared at Gwaine, and looked at Mordred standing a few paces away. People were staring, and I wished Gwaine would just leave me alone. Mordred was laughing along with Percival, but his eyes told me that the dance after this would be ours if it was the last thing he did! I shared the sentiment, though I hoped it wouldn't come to such drastic measures._

" _Oh no, Gwaine," Arthur replied good-naturedly, "Bailey is a beautiful dancer, but I'm afraid the only woman I'm permitted to dance with is my lovely wife." Gwen hit his arm, obviously feeling pity for me caught in the middle of all this. "However," the king cast a glance at his servant standing at his usual post by the wall, "Merlin would be happy to dance with Bailey in my stead!" Gwaine shrugged, and Arthur shoved Merlin out to meet me on the floor. Merlin stumbled a little and cast a slightly annoyed glance back at his king. Arthur motioned with his arms, like 'go forth and do my bidding minion!' He clearly thought Merlin was going to have to bungle his way through a dance with me. I, however, knew that Merlin happened to be a rather graceful dancer (at odds with his clumsiness, I know!) because he had taught me and Mordred most of these dances. Arthur was in for a pleasant surprise!_

 _Merlin offered me his arm and out onto the floor we stepped. Of course, because of all the commotion Gwaine and Arthur had caused, everyone stepped away to watch us dance instead of joining in themselves. Under other circumstances, I might have been nervous, but the intro the orchestra was playing just happened to be a lovely partner dance not unlike a ballet or a waltz, and if I couldn't dance with Mordred (who was another marvelous dancer) then dancing with Merlin was near perfection._

 _I took a deep breath, raising my eyes to meet Merlin's. He winked cheekily at me. And we were off! In hindsight, it was probably a good thing that everyone else had cleared off, because Merlin had plenty of room to lift me and spin me as he saw fit. Naturally, he was showing off for Arthur and his other friends, so we whirled around like synchronized tops._

 _By the time the dance ended, the rest of the guests were cheering wildly. We stopped, and then curtsied and bowed for our applause. It was nearly as intoxicating as a standing ovation on stage. Merlin walked smugly over to Arthur, whose chin was resting on his chest in wide-mouthed amazement. I couldn't hear what the servant said to his king, but I was sure it was a well-deserved 'in your face!' barb._

 _I turned at the sound of hurried footsteps behind me, and came face to face with Mordred. He must have rushed me the minute Merlin left, but I wasn't complaining. Out of the corner of my eye, I could see more than one lesser knight or squire dejectedly giving us glances as we prepared for the next dance._

" _Don't look now," Mordred murmured, "but all the little boys are disappointed that someone barely their senior got to you first." So Mordred had noticed too. I'm not going to lie, all of them were making me feel all kinds of flattered._

 _I whispered in return, "Well they're going to be rather disappointed when I'm unavailable for the rest of the night because I'm dancing with you!" Mordred didn't immediately respond after that. I started to panic. Maybe I'd finally overstepped some unspoken boundary or read too much into what our past interactions had entailed! God knows it had happened with almost every other boy I had ever cared for more than in passing!_

 _The orchestra began again, and my embarrassment only grew. The music was for a dance that could have been considered the medieval equivalent of a slow dance. I shifted my feet and looked down. Then, Mordred took my hand, pulled me close, and used his other hand to raise my chin so he could see my eyes before placing it on my waist._

" _Bailey," he breathed, barely audible, "they're full of delusions if they think that I would ever let go of your hand now that I've finally got it again." I blushed, too many emotions combating in my head to allow for a response._

 _Finally, I said, "It's a good thing we're in agreement then!" Mordred beamed a dazzling smile. I was off for my second dance comparable to the rush of performing tonight, but this one was an altogether different kind of intoxicating!_

* * *

 _God only knows how many times we traversed that floor over the course of the night. We dipped and tripped and whirled gaily around. I was having the time of my life, and it was clear Mordred was as well. Dancing like this was something I realized we were deprived of in my time. Pure, old-fashioned waltzes and polkas and the like had all been replaced with grinding and hopping to the beat and "whoo" girls cheering in a circle. Perhaps I, as a dancer, was appreciating it all the more, but it was all kinds of wonder and magic-filled (though not the kind anyone could get killed for!) I wouldn't have traded it for the world._

 _After sitting out two dances consecutively due to a fast-paced jumper that had left me lightheaded, Mordred led me back out. This next dance was one that involved plenty of little turning-lifts. I knew this, so it wasn't the fact that Mordred drew me in closer in preparation for one of them upcoming that surprised and frightened me. It was the fact that he set me down a little closer then was strictly necessary afterwards, and then tightened his arm around my waist and closed the space between us even more._

 _It was the fact that he said, in a much deeper voice than usual, "I so rarely get an excuse to hold you close." His breath stirred the hair by my ear. "It's nice…" It was the fact that he was smiling an expectant little smile that brought the whole night of hints and close proximity and hand-holding to a rushing font in front of my eyes. I had been reminded of everything I'd been avoiding facing and I couldn't continue to avoid any of it any longer. Facing his eyes upon this revelation, bright blue storms of hope and sparks, I had to look down._

 _We continued dancing. On the next turn, however, I stepped out a little wider than necessary and didn't come back in quite as far. My hope was that it was slight enough to escape Mordred's notice. Even if he did notice, Mordred had always put up with my frequent inconsistencies with a wounded look and resigned sigh. But I had underestimated the impression I'd been giving out tonight. I underestimated the impact Mordred was hoping this night would have. I underestimated just how long a simmering frustration had been boiling under my dance partner's skin. I simply underestimated_ _everything_ _._

 _Because, not only did he notice, but Mordred gripped my hand tightly enough to cause me to cry out, and hissed, in a telekinesis voice that caused my brain to vibrate with its suppressed rage, "_ _ **WHY DO YOU ALWAYS DO THAT**_ _?"_

 _I trembled then, every one of my faculties being thrown into a panic. Somehow, I continued to follow the dance steps with a racing heart and throbbing head. Mordred continued to stare down at me. I saw no apology in his eyes, only pain and frustration. I wanted to cry. I wanted to run away. I wanted, more than anything, to go back to my previous life. The one with average worries. The one without Mordred. The one I didn't fuck up at every turn!_

" _Please," I finally begged, after several searing seconds of my heartbeat clicking in my jaw, "not here. After this dance." Mordred nodded curtly. We continued to spin and jump, only now I felt nauseous and Mordred…Mordred's eyes had gone cold and hard. And I was afraid._

 _Mordred whirled us close to a doorway that clearly led to a corridor. Even before the orchestra had played the end of the longest dance of my lengthy history of dancing, we stopped and slipped through the doorway. I wanted to sob the loss of my magical night out loud, but I wasn't in control of anything, my body included. Mordred was leading me down a dark hallway at a pace that my barely-functioning-legs were hard-pressed to keep up with. He wasn't dragging me, not quite, but I_ _felt_ _that I was being hauled along at a break-neck pace. That this was all coming from Mordred - gentle, witty, graceful Mordred - was tearing me up. I did this. I had brought this upon myself. And I cannot tell you how much I hated myself in that moment (though it was probably less than how much Mordred hated me; that thought made it hard to breathe and function and not collapse to the floor in shambles.)_

 _An achingly long time later, we came to an open corridor flooded with moonlight. It was a much wider one, and open to the night air at the rear-end of the castle. I imagined it was well traversed during the day, but right now, nothing but me and the boy I'd caused to suffer stirred. Mordred released my wrist abruptly and stumbled to the ledge. He stood there, white in the moonlight and against the stone, and from suppressed_ _everything._ _His fingers gripped the ledge in a frustration that had been building up from day one of my time in Camelot. I, having no reserves of anything at all left to draw upon for strength, leaned against the wall of the corridor, drenched in shadow. I just watched Mordred, who looked like a statue of a knight carved from stone he was so still, and could only think one thing: 'He's radiant.' He was, all white and black and silver, with sapphires for eyes and anger outlined in every angle and plane of his face. It was, quite literally, painful for me to continue staring, so I turned my face to the wall, resisted bashing my head against it, and closed my eyes. The coolness of the stone helped marginally. I waited._

 _Then, finally and softly (which made it all the more painful) - "Why do you do that?"_

 _I kept my eyes closed. "Do what?" Mordred pounded his palm on the ledge; it wasn't a very loud sound, but I jumped and opened my eyes._

" _You know what!" Every word was whipped at me. "The silence, the pulling back, the mood-swings on a dime! One minute, you're undeniably you and wonderful and amiable and approachable and then something closes off in you and you shut. Me. Out." There were going to be scars in my palms, imprints of the nails that dug there so often. I didn't want to make an audible noise, but I felt the need growing inside of me. I dug my nails in harder. "I thought," Mordred drew a shaky breath, "I thought it was because you had just met me, I thought perhaps you had trust issues, some reasons from your past. You're a seer after all-" Everything roiled inside me when he said that. I wanted to scream. Either that or burst out laughing. I bit my lip in defiance," - and having magic in this kingdom means one must be on her guard and careful but DAMN IT BAILEY!" This was a near shout, and I jumped sky-high. I had never seen this Mordred,_ _my_ _Mordred, lose control before. This was ground-shaking and fundamentally worrisome. I trembled, feeling like I was coming apart at the seams._

" _It just kept continuing and continuing. I thought that seeing my suffering would open you up, but I was wrong. Did you not see the pain in my eyes?" he demanded. "Did you not see how much it hurt, you drawing away like that?" He sprang away from the ledge and advanced with the speed of a jaguar. I had unknowingly moved forward slightly, and was now in the larger corridor undoubtedly. With Mordred coming at me, I panicked and began stumbling backwards just as quickly. Unfortunately, I wasn't the most coherent, and as walking backwards quickly in a fancy dress isn't exactly easy on a good day, I tripped. Mordred, quick as a whip, knelt beside me. I was as tense as a bowstring, but he, by comparison, seemed suddenly at ease._

" _Please, Bailey," he whispered, in tones much softer than those used previously, "please just tell me why. I think you owe me an explanation!" The last bit was more forceful, but I didn't start, because my mind was whirling and my mouth was just trying to keep up._

" _I heard what Kara said to you that night and I was afraid and I've never been very good at hiding my feelings. There are so many things I've done wrong but they were for decent reasons and Mordred! I…I can't think and you're scaring me and I'm so, so sorry but I screwed up and I'm not perfect and I was very afraid because Kara was right and observant and told you and she was so…utterly perfect and right for you and I knew you loved her and she was very pretty and right and I can't…"_

" _Whoa, whoa, whoa wait!" Mordred gently put his hand on my shoulder. I was panting because all of that was said in one breath and I didn't even think he understood (because I certainly didn't!) Apparently, though, I had been more eloquent then I'd thought, because Mordred murmured, "You thought I loved Kara? All this is about KARA?!" 'No,' I thought, 'not all or at all.' But of course Mordred didn't know that._

 _He continued, - "But surely you must know!?" - so softly I had to strain to hear, despite the fact that he was saying it into my ear._

" _Know…know what?" I finally found the courage to look at him, and was bombarded by the emotional clarity in his sapphire eyes. They clearly showed me one emotion, and one only. An emotion so longed for in my mind that I had refused to believe it could be right there in front of me._

" _Bailey…" Mordred breathed my name out on a chuckle, in a way that raised the hair on my arms. He stroked my hair. "You must know that I am desperately, madly," his hand moved to my cheek and my breath caught, "head-over-heels in love with you!"_

 _The earth stopped revolving with that declaration. Time had stopped stealing forward. Everything about and inside of me froze with elated, yet panic-strung, shock. My heartbeat was thumping out a drum-rhythm, but all I was hearing was 'Mor-dred. Mor-dred. Mor-dred.' And that was all I was seeing too. The boy in front of me._

 _Who had just declared his love for me._

 _He was staring at me. I was staring at him. I don't think either of us were breathing. Unexpectedly, Mordred grasped me by my forearms and pulled the both of us to standing._

" _And I think…_ _I know_ _that you must feel the same about me!" I blinked away tears, wanting nothing more than some sort of, I don't know, manual of some description! Something,_ _anything_ _at all to help me through this minefield of feelings and wants and wishes and hurt. "I can't believe that all I've seen from you in these past months could only be in the interest of friendship. I won't believe that!" I looked down because the sobs were building and the tears were falling and I had no idea what to do. Mordred grasped my arms tightly, not enough to hurt me, oh no, but my mental pain was great and so everything hurt, inside and out. Mordred forced my chin back up, gentle, but demanding all the same._

" _Bailey…if you can look at me, look me straight in the eye, and tell me you feel nothing like what I am describing, not a flicker or a sliver or even an idea of feeling beyond friendship, if you can do that with definite certainty, then I will drop the matter and never broach it again. I will leave you be; you have my word." He was looking at me like no one ever had before. I was seeing him as_ _I_ _had never seen him before, full of fervor and light and just…radiant. There was no better word, radiant summed it up perfectly. He was shinning, and he was giving credit to that glow to me._

" _But I don't think you want that. I hope…" His voice broke a little on hope, and with it, my heart and will of steel cracked as well. Both had sustained major damage already throughout the course of the night, and I was in no place to withhold what I wanted more than anything. Mordred shook his head, like an adorable puppy shaking water off after a swim._

" _I hope you can admit that you feel something for me. Anything…" His voice dropped to a grave whisper._

" _I…" I was shaking like a leaf. "I…" I was fragile and crumbling. Mordred shook me a little, becoming more and more desperate the more I hesitated._

" _I don't think I can go on any longer without knowing, Bailey!" he cried. "Please…" A plea now, one I was powerless to resist. Mordred begging was not something I could abide under any circumstances, "just…" He fell to his knees in front of me and that was it. The end of my fight. My mind and heart were having a battle, but I already knew who was poised to win, who had been poised to win from the very beginning. The lava, a constant cause of pain, was flowing, and I suspected there was only one way to cease its destruction._

" _Just give me an answer!" Mordred pleaded. I took a deep breath. It was the first real intake of air I'd had throughout all of this. And on that breath, I knew my heart had made an executive decision._

 _My mind had relented, so I said the only words I was really capable of: "Mordred." No turning back, no more holding back. "I am deeply in love with you." He blinked up at me, blue eyes wide and beautiful and brimming with tears. I didn't think he'd registered my words. I said again, with a lot of pent up emotion, "I love you too…" Joy flooded his face. Mordred leapt to his feet, staring at me like I was some bright new star in the sky. A smile, wide and relieved and free, broke out on my face. Tentatively, I reached out and brushed the tears away from Mordred's eyes, and that was all it took. He gave a loud 'whoop!' and threw his arms around me. I embraced him just as tightly, burying my face in the crook of his neck._

" _I love you, Mordred," I repeated a third time, feeling the weight of the world lift free of my shoulders as I uttered the words, "I love you so much. Too much…" All around me, I felt Mordred tense, and at first, I had no idea what I'd said or done that could have caused such a reaction. Mordred was smart and quick on the draw – clearly quicker than I was at any rate. So, having probably already guessed that there was more to my reasoning behind holding back then simply Kara, and hearing a rambling 'lead in' to such an admission, he shook out of my embrace. Now, there seemed an immeasurable gulf of space between us, where I stood on one side, feeling confused and very suddenly alone, and where Mordred had a sad, suspicious look on his face on the other side. Then, in the seconds before he spoke, I put two and two together. What had I said earlier about fucking everything up? 'Cause I had just gone to a new level of extreme fuck-up._

" _What do you mean, 'too much'?" Mordred asked slowly. He was so smart; he knew the answer, but didn't want to have to say it. But I didn't have it in me to reply. And that in and of itself gave me away. "How can you love someone too much, Bailey?" Another plea, desperate and despairing. Then, devastatingly quiet and resigned, "You saw something, didn't you?" I still said nothing. "DIDN'T YOU?" I began backing up again, slowly shaking my head. "You saw something in the future, something I might do. Something bad and evil, something you couldn't have happen." Mordred was pacing, talking more to himself now than to me. I wanted to continue to back away, but I had hit a wall, and the door on the wall beside it was locked. He heard me try the handle and ran over, crying accusingly, "And what do you do instead of telling me or talking to me about it?" He was right up in my face now, caging me in on either side with his hands by my head, still radiant, but looking more like an avenging angel than a guiding light. All cruelty and justice and demanding answers. I pressed against the wall at my back, wishing I was anywhere else._

" _You closed off and shut me out when the real problem wasn't anything I had done, like I tortured myself endlessly thinking about, but something I still have yet to do!" We were nose to nose, and I thought about how much I wanted to kiss him. Not that I thought that might solve anything, but just to have the first boy who had said he loved me, and to whom I had said I loved him back, be my first kiss._

" _Tell me what you saw," Mordred demanded. Everything inside of me recoiled at the idea, so I found my voice and turned my face away._

" _No."_

" _TELL ME!" Mordred screamed. Instead of telling, in an attempt to avoid doing so, I slid down the wall, weeping, feeling the buttons on my dress tear as I pressed as far away from him as I could. Mordred tore away from me and the wall, and began ranting and wailing and pleading in the most uncontrolled manner. It was the most unhinged I'd ever seen him. It was frightening to think he could go from passionate to pleading to angry in such a time span. I couldn't face it, so I hugged my knees tight to my body in an attempt to block it all out. It didn't work. I was afraid. So afraid. Of what he might do, of what I might do, of how all of this had spiraled so quickly to this moment right here. I tried to block it out with song, but to no avail._

 _He pleaded, he begged, he cried, he raved, he whimpered, and it all whittled my strength away, until, after a bought of crying that he loved me and I was tearing him apart, I screamed, "YOU KILL ARTHUR!"_

 _Well._

 _As you can imagine, that brought him up short, and with a look so uncomprehending that it might have been comical in any other situation._

" _What?"_

 _I leaned back against the wall, having seen everything before me go to hell in a matter of minutes, and no longer possessing the energy to not speak. "At the battle of Camlann," I rasped, "You stab Arthur." Mordred just stared at me, looking all the world like a lost, little boy. "He executed Kara, you see," I continued, desperate to explain even just a little, "not for having magic, but for being in the party that ambushed those knights. And despite your efforts to save her and to reason with him and Merlin, she died. That was enough to drive you to Morgana's side." Mordred put his hands over his ears, silently begging me to stop, but I pressed on. Now that I had started, I couldn't seem to stop. "She had a sword forged in Aithusa's breath, and when you and an army of Saxons battled Arthur and the knights of Camelot in the valley of Camlann, you stabbed him. And…and right after…" I was crying, sobbing great heaving sobs that made it hard to breath, "he stabbed…you." Mordred fell to his knees, and I reached out my hand in some futile attempt to comfort him. "But you have to believe me, that was the most awful part, watching you die. I think it, it kind of broke me. I couldn't tell you, because what if that made it real?" I was gasping for breath. "What if, by encouraging you and falling in love with you, I unwittingly caused that to be your fate? I couldn't let that happen! I couldn't live with myself if I was the reason you died." Mordred had been kneeling with his head bowed. Now, he stood, and when he trained cold, blue eyes on me and spoke in a detached voice, I felt he had become a different person._

" _I guess that's what it boils down to isn't it? After all this time, I thought you were different than Merlin. But no, you've been distrusting me from the beginning, exactly like he does. And it was all in the name of protecting Arthur, exactly how Merlin justifies it. Was it so likely to you that I might actually kill the King that you couldn't tell me about it? Because of course, Arthur's the one everyone is worried about. Arthur's the one everyone would die for and sacrifice others' happiness for. You'd cry for him if he died, Bailey, they'd all cry, but no one would worry about me. Not even the people who claim to care about me-" here he fixed me with an even more piercing, destroying glare, "-_ _especially_ _the people who claim to care about me!"_

" _That's not true!" I cried. I felt like someone had yanked a rug out from underneath me, that's how fast the tables had turned, but I knew I was whole-heartedly to blame. What I wouldn't have given to turn the clock back but a few minutes and right all of this. Since I couldn't, couldn't go back to that feeling of wholesome happiness in the moments after I'd admitted I loved him (because I did; more than it had seemed possible to care about someone) I was desperate for some sort of remedy. "Mordred! Watching you die, even before I met you, it destroyed me inside. I swear, I was a mess! I cried and cried and then had to come to save you. I did it for you! Not just Arthur, for you! And for Kara, even though she…"_

" _You saw this before we met?"_

" _Y…yes…" I hiccuped in the silence that followed, because I was gasping for air that wasn't helping and nothing was working at all anymore._

" _You decided I couldn't be trusted before you even saw me? I guess there was nothing I could have done to win your affections, was there? Your mind had already been made up that I might turn evil and couldn't be trusted!"_

" _Mordred…" I tried, but couldn't find anymore words. I wasn't sure if I wanted them anyway; Mordred was such a wordsmith that every argument I had only added to his anger and was turned against me. Shit. Shit, shit, shit, shit! How things could possibly get worse from here, I didn't know. All I knew was that I had caused terrible suffering to the boy I loved, all from my blind wish to keep him good and safe. I now saw what an absolutely retarded notion that was, the idea that what Mordred didn't know wouldn't hurt him, because it did and it had. That was crystal clear._

 _Mordred ran a hand through his hair resignedly. He turned away, to leave I suppose, but turned back to say one last crushing thing._

" _Was any of it real? Any of it at all, Bailey? Or were you just trying to keep me from running off to Morgana?"_

 _Silence._

 _I suppose things could get worse. A crushing feeling that I had been experiencing in my chest for some time now turned into a full on blaze; the pain was so much worse then anything I had ever experienced. Full of burn and regret and guilt, all tied together with a lovely ribbon self-loathing. After all that, the dancing, the confrontation, the confession, the fear, the pain, the love (because that's what the lava and the mental tug-of-wars and the denial had all been about) how could he think any of it was fake?_

" _Mordred!" I cried, "How could you possibly think, after everything I've told and shown you, after_ _tonight_ _, that I would be capable of…"_

" _I don't know what to think anymore." The voice that cut me off was hard and unfeeling. It definitely didn't belong to the boy who, just minutes ago, had told me he was madly in love with me._

 _I watched as Mordred stalked off down the corridor, ignoring my protests and cries and calls. I screamed his name until he disappeared around the corner, but not once did he look back. I wailed myself hoarse, long after he was gone and it was just my painful echoes ricocheting back at me. When even that wasn't enough, I hugged my knees in close, rocking back and forth and weeping, because, while I had no idea what was going to happen next, whatever did happen would be almost entirely my fault._

* * *

 **Wow. Ok. Dramatic much? :)**

 **I know I say this every time, but I really can't say it enough: THANK YOU! Thank you to all of you who read this, and who keep reading it. It really means the world. Thanks especially to stephanieblack for the follow, and, as always, to Royiah for all your kind and helpful words.**

 **On that note, if any of you are thinking I didn't build the relationship up enough with random days and such, have no fear!**

 **a) This was a little intentional (it is a flawed relationship after all) and**

 **b) Next week's chapter will remedy this. I plan on flashbacking a little (I've read a few fics that did this with relationships - cause angst and then show a random happy day. It hurts like the devil!)**

 **Until then, adieu my friends!**


	8. Snapshot

**Hi everyone! I'm back. So sorry for the longer-than-usual wait. I promise I have some excus...*cough* _explanations_ at the end of the chapter. **

**This is the aforementioned little snapshot of a day of Bailey and Mordred's. It is pure, unadulterated fluff. Enjoy!**

* * *

 _7.5_

 _Snapshot_

 _ **\- A time between chapters six and seven, 2 months and maybe a week into Bailey's time in Camelot -**_

 _"How do you do it?" I asked Merlin quietly, half-leaning on the weapons rack beside us. When the manservant just quirked a brow at me, I lowered my voice even further. "How do you… keep all your secrets from all the people you care about?"_

 _We were watching the knights at training, because I had a walk planned after with Mordred and because Merlin had actually completed all of Arthur's ridiculous chores (nothing catastrophic had happened since my arrival, leaving Merlin with time to complete tasks for once; I wondered if he was feeling as anxious about the calm as I was). Despite my best efforts, my eyes slid to Mordred, whose head was thrown back in laughter as he watched Percival knock Gwaine to the ground. Merlin gave me the saddest of wry smiles, following my eyes to Mordred's laughing face. I winced in pain and dug my nails into my palms. Mordred was…he was…simply too much! He wasn't just sexy or cute or hot or attractive or handsome or adorable, though he was all those things and more. He was beautiful, too beautiful. The kind of beauty that was hard to look at. The kind of beauty that was ultimately unattainable._

 _I knew that, but, even so, my whole being ached with want for the one thing I was sure I couldn't and wouldn't ever have._

 _It must have been easy to read the melancholic turn my thoughts had taken on my face, because, when Merlin's blues returned to mine, they looked as if they'd aged ten years._

 _"Some days," he said softly, "I honestly don't know how I continue to remain silent. But I, at least, do not have the burden of the future pressing down on my scrawny shoulders." I ducked my head, not trusting myself to not reveal all my many secrets with my eyes. Merlin grew serious again, seeing my reaction – my knuckles were white where they gripped the weapons rack, something I hadn't even realized I was doing. "You must have faith, Bailey," I couldn't help the snort that escaped, "I know how hard it is, believe me, I know, but that is all either of us can do." He laid a gentle hand on my shoulder. "You told me you believed you averted the future you saw where Arthur and," here he faltered a little, "…and I drove Mordred to be the cause of Arthur's death." Here I allowed myself a slight nod in response. "All you can do is have faith that you have. Unless," and here Merlin's voiced dropped to a mere raspy whisper, "you've seen something new to tell you otherwise?"_

 _All my lies were acid that ate at me from the inside out._

 _I shook my head no in answer to Merlin's question, just as Mordred ran up. The older warlock squeezed my shoulder before silently taking his leave, with a small nod for Mordred. The tension had eased somewhat between the two, but only somewhat. Merlin was less obvious about it, but he still kept a wary eye on Mordred, and even a blind man could see he wasn't fond of Mordred's company in diminished numbers. That same blind man would also know that it cut at Mordred much more than he let on, but I tried to lessen his hurt as much as I could and would allow myself._

 _At any rate, today, Mordred's smile and buoyant step didn't falter as Merlin left. He was still a little breathless and sweaty from training, but his cheeks were bright, and there was the lightness in manner that made appearances more frequently in life than on the show. His sheen of sweat and glowing eyes burned the lava through me, but I did my level best to meet his gaze._

 _"Are you ready?"_

 _"Now?" I asked. "Don't you want to change first?" 'As much as I love seeing you in your armor,' I added in my head._

 _Mordred shook his own head empathetically. "No. I am too excited to show you this place." He did take his gloves off, tucked them into his belt, and came around the weapons rack to stand next to me. The close proximity made my blush start a fight to grace my cheeks but it was a fight I fought with all my might. Mordred looked as if he'd take my hand to lead me to this mysterious place he'd mentioned, but seemed to think better of it as I kept them clasped tightly in front of me._

 _"Lead on, worthy knight," I said, and his smile widened even more._

 _I followed him through the twists and turns of the maze-like streets, not knowing where we were going, nor where we were, but loving every second of it. I was with Mordred, and despite not trusting him, I, well… trusted him implicitly. My inner dichotomy made no sense, but not much else about these events did either._

 _It all felt so safe and right with him, even though I had lava for blood in his presence._

 _My feet were just starting to notice how far we must have come when Mordred turned into a tiny little alleyway I wouldn't have seen otherwise. This alleyway, after only a few steps, opened into a silent, sun-bathed square._

 _I was struck silent by the simple beauty of the place. The square was very tiny, no more than twenty steps from where we stood to the end. It didn't appear to lead to anywhere else; three walls surrounded us on three sides. And yet, I didn't feel trapped. Quite the opposite, actually, as I gazed at the walls and roofs. I was no expert on architecture, but everything around me, though small, seemed to open and reach for the sky (which was a vibrant blue at the moment)._

 _What stole my attention though was not at sky level. On either side were two half-moon pools of crystalline water. The bricks surrounding the pools were crudely shaped but a variety of natural stone and mineral colours, having been chiseled from many different rocks. Some even sparkled in the afternoon sun. And, floating peacefully in the water were dozens of wildflowers._

 _I heard Mordred shifting his feet anxiously behind me, and the sound brought me back to myself. I turned to him. I felt a little like everything about and within was too much, like I might explode or implode or simply fold in on myself, but there was nowhere else I would rather be than right there with him._

 _"What do you think?" Mordred asked. I just shook my head._

 _"I…don't…have…the words." Mordred had shown me so many different and wonderful things during my time here in Camelot, each vibrant and breath-taking and each inspiring so many different feelings. I wondered how on Earth I was going to repay him for all he'd given me; nothing earthly could possibly suffice. And then the annoyingly correct little voice in the back of my head reminded me there might be one way, but I ignored it._

 _I took a deep breath, determined to at least try and convey some of what I was feeling. "It's…it's…like the lovely little eye of the storm that is Camelot." Mordred's relieved smile broke out on his face._

 _"I knew you'd love it!"_

 _"How did you find it? And what is all this?" Mordred's smile somehow changed to be more playful and more serious than before. He offered a strong hand, which I couldn't bring myself to decline, and lead me over to the pool to the left of us. I sat down on the cool stone and raised my eyebrows, waiting for a story._

 _"You know I used to be afraid of the city. Well, I had to make myself go out and explore all its corners for myself to put a stop to that. Or, at the very least, to discover what and who exactly I would be protecting. The other knights were helpful; Gwaine and I did pub crawls, Percy showed me all the markets," I smiled at Percival's nickname, "Leon showed me all the city patrol routes and such, and Elyan…" I felt the smile slip off my face as Mordred's voice gave the slightest of tremors. He didn't often talk about the other knight; they had been quite close, according to the stories Merlin and Gwaine could sometimes be persuaded to tell me, "Elyan introduced me to the lower town and its people. One day, we ran into this place, which even Elyan hadn't seen before. It took me a couple of trips back alone before I realized why he'd never been here."_

 _"Why?" I asked. I was hanging on his every word (wasn't I always though?)_

 _Mordred widened his eyes for (effective) dramatic effect. "It is magic."_

 _Though this news was surprising, it also made some sense. There was something ethereal about the square, something calm and very alive and natural, despite all the stone. In fact, I almost thought I could feel some of the magic of the place vibrating in the stones where I rested my hands, but perhaps I was just imagining it._

 _I was mostly just confused about_ _why_ _and_ _how_ _, but before I could ask, Mordred shrugged. "I don't have any answers to your questions, Bailey."_

 _I smirked. "Are all these flowers for Elyan's memory then?" I immediately regretted changing the mood once more, but Mordred didn't seem to mind._

" _Yes…and no. They're also for my fellow magic users, and for the citizens of Camelot, and for Emrys and the King and Queen and my friends." He blushed a little. "There are even some here that I've placed with a little protective prayer for your child friends, and some for…you."_

 _I ignored the pain that blossomed with that confession and just focused on the warmth spreading through me. I smiled a teasing smile. "So, what you're telling me is that you place flowers here for everyone you can think of because of your caring heart, despite the fact that you're a morally corrupt knight of Camelot?"_

 _He smiled too, cheek in full effect, and bowed. "You are correct, mistress!" I rolled my eyes. Mordred sat down beside me then. In his fingers he twisted the stems of a bouquet of yellow blooms he'd bought on our way here. I now knew what they were for._

 _"Who are you putting those in for today?"_

 _He smirked, but it was almost shy, and he turned away from me and back to me in one fluid motion. Then Mordred snapped the stems off carefully and deliberately._

 _"I thought – you might like to put some in yourself…"_

 _I was more than a little touched by his genuine, heartfelt offer; I could only smile, nod, and take the outstretched flowers. I didn't trust my ability to speak around the lump in my throat._

 _Cradling the yellow-petaled blooms in my hands so as not to crush them, I stood and turned, surveying the floating array of other colours in the water. This pool had less sunshine-hued flowers than the right-side one, so I was satisfied._

 _There were seven flowers. Seven people. Thoughtfully, I stroked one of the petals. I could feel Mordred watching with careful eyes. I appreciated that he wasn't going to rush me, as I wanted my choices to be deliberate and correct. I didn't doubt the magic of this still place, and I wanted it to go towards the people who would need it most. With that in mind, I placed three down for my family – for my mom, brother, and dad – and willed some helpful, healing, and calming magic to go their way and perhaps soothe all their supposed worries for me (could the magic reach them? I didn't know, but I was willing to bet it could). Next, after a minute, I put one down for Arthur, and one for his faithful manservant, with a prayer that they would be safe from whatever darkness had to be coming._

 _The last two were giving me some trouble until I was struck with an epiphany. I nervously set one afloat for Morgana, for the poor girl-turned-High-Priestess. Not in hopes that she would return to her former home and people with goodwill, but perhaps in hopes that some of her hate and suffering would be lessoned, at least for today. Then I turned to Mordred, still holding the last fragile flower._

 _"Who is it for?" he asked, his voice hushed, out of instinct for the moment perhaps. I smiled a gentle smile, and held his gaze for as long as I dared (it wasn't exceptionally long, but I believe it did the trick). I looked back at the flower and finally set in down with the rest of the yellows, which were already spreading and mingling throughout the others._

 _"I think you know," I whispered, watching the little yellow flower-top bob with its peers._

* * *

 **Alright! I hope this was decent. Again, I'm sorry I took a little longer. It's all my stupidity. You see, I have basically written all of this story. I do edit and change stuff (I have some big changes I want to make to chapter nine) but it's already there. Everything except for this, which I decided I wanted to include right before I posted chapter seven. However, I was stupid because**

 **a) it's finals season right now and that caught up with me last week. Sadly, not much time to write in between perpetual biology studying.**

 **b) I had a tough time starting this. I did that thing I do sometimes where I have in my head where I want to go with a story but no clue how to start or get there. I started this a few times and scrapped it.**

 **Anyway, yeah. Chapters eight and nine should be up soon (if I edit nine in a timely fashion) and they'll be up together 'cause they're pretty short.**

 **All my thanks to all of you who read this, but especially to Lily weasly potter for the fav and, as always, Royiah!**


	9. A Helpful Someone Tries to Help

**Still don't own Merlin, nor do I own the song Bailey sings a little of.**

* * *

 _8_

 _A Helpful Someone Tries to Help_

 _ **Previously:**_

"I don't know what to think anymore." The voice that cut me off was hard and unfeeling. It definitely didn't belong to the boy who, just minutes ago, had told me he was madly in love with me.

I watched as Mordred stalked off down the corridor, ignoring my protests and cries and calls. I screamed his name until he disappeared around the corner, but not once did he look back. I wailed myself hoarse, long after he was gone and it was just my painful echoes ricocheting back at me. When even that wasn't enough, I hugged my knees in close, rocking back and forth and weeping, because, while I had no idea what was going to happen next, whatever did happen would be almost entirely my fault.

* * *

 _I couldn't say how long I sat there for; however long of a time it was, it didn't help to abate the pain in the slightest. I cried there, curled against the wall, replaying the entire night in my mind. Every painful memory, all the whirlwind of emotions, I went through all of it over and over again, torturing myself with what-ifs and should-haves and could-haves._

" _I wish…*" I tried to sing. The phrase came out all whispry and weepy like they do when one's just cried a river, literally. Singing was one of my favourite ways of expressing or handling emotions I didn't know how to otherwise, but, this time, it only made the tears come faster. What_ _didn't_ _I wish?! "I wish that I was not a fool…" I was changing the words from the_ _Into the Woods_ _intro to suit my situation (I did this quite often because it helped when not much else did.) It sometimes amazed me how words written by other people for very specific story lines, with just a snip and twist from my mind, could be related to current issues I was dealing with. Sometimes, I didn't even have to change words. This relatability was one of the many reasons I loved musical theatre._

" _I wish my life was not a mess…" That one caused me to giggle a little pathetically and squeeze out more tears. "I wish his heart was still full of love, I wish that I could go back home…" I sobbed out the last phrase because it was the truest of all and hurt like hell: "I wish a lot of things!"_

 _Suddenly, the locked door on the wall beside me began to jiggle. I couldn't have cared less. Part of me (the foolish part that refused to listen and led Mordred on and said too many things without thinking) thought it might be Mordred, returned to talk things over and really communicate properly. The rest of me knew this to be highly unlikely, so my heart was only slightly crushed into even tinier pieces when the door opened and a person who was definitely not Mordred shuffled in. Well, whoever it was had no way of knowing all that I was going through, so they could judge all they wanted. The amount of fucks I gave right then were too little to even measure. I simply continued to cry, backed up against the wall._

 _I didn't even look up until a creaky voice exclaimed, with shock and surprise, "Bailey?"_

 _I did look up then, with shock and surprise of my own. "G…Gaius?" The old man hobbled over, then offered a hand to help me up. I was slightly embarrassed, and moved to wipe my tears with my sleeve. Gaius saw, and kindly offered a handkerchief._

 _After I had dried my eyes, he gently asked, "Whatever is the matter, my dear?" I took a deep breath, trying to answer, but my eyes filled again, because I needed some sage advice, but I had no idea where to start, and the thought of all my recent conversations with Mordred were altogether too much. I cried, and tried to apologize to the physician, but I'm afraid I wasn't all that coherent. The long, eventful night was taking its toll. Gaius led me far down the corridor to where a bench rested against the wall._

" _This may be more comfortable than your previous position," Gaius commented as he sat me down. I cried my eyes out, again, repeating on a continuous loop in my mind what I could say, and just how much I should say. I knew, if I wanted to warn Gaius about the possibility of Mordred doing awful things in a way that allowed for any chance of preventing such things, that I had to tell him about our relationship and the confessions and the argument. Those thoughts only made the tears fall faster. Gaius patted me on the back as my shoulders heaved, generously waiting me out._

 _When I finally stopped, I actually felt a little better about the whole situation. This was mostly due to the fact that I had finally made a decision. I desperately needed someone to confide in, someone older and more knowledgeable in the ways of this world. Because, do you know what happens when teenage girls are left to deal with matters closely related to the heart for too long on their own? The shit will hit the fan, that's what!_

" _There, there. Now that we're done with all that, why don't you tell me what's troubling you?" Gaius asked again._

 _I told him_ _everything_ _._

 _Everything_ _\- from where I'd come from to who I was to how I knew what I did and more._

 _That was the decision I had finally come to terms with. I needed some help, and I could think of no one better suited to provide it._

 _Gaius listened quietly and without interruption. By the time I was finished, the first signs of the dawning sun could be seen on the loping hills outside the windows. So, instead of discussing possible strategies and remedies, or even informing Merlin of the issue, Gaius stood and then helped me up beside him. I was quite exhausted from this night, too exhausted to even protest as Gaius took me to his chambers, saying it was much too early for me to go home to the lower town, and too exhausted to question his anti-climatic reaction to the news that I was not of his world. Much too exhausted to even wonder where Merlin was when we entered his room and the bed showed no signs of being slept in._

* * *

 _I did wonder where the young warlock was when I left his room the next morning, only to find him not at breakfast. Now, it was late enough that he would have already been at work for Arthur, but there weren't even signs of a make-shift sleeping place like the last time I had slept in his bed._

" _Did Merlin not come home last night?" I asked Gaius, alarmed._

" _No." I thought this response much too calm for the situation at hand, and my alarm only grew._

" _Well, should we be looking for him? Should we have Arthur organize a search party? What if harm has befallen him, Gaius? Harm in the form of Morgana or Mordred or something we don't even know about?" I was getting more hysterical than the situation warranted, granted, but I think I was so ready for trouble to pop up with Mordred because of the previous night that I was seeing it in this probably lesser situation. Gaius, however, was much more level-headed._

 _He handed me a bowl of porridge and set down the medical text he was reading before saying calmly, "None of that will be necessary. I know where he is." I let out a relieved breath and sat down to breakfast. "Late last night, presumably while you and Sir Mordred were having your altercation, Arthur received news of a village on our northern border that was having issues with a group of bandits. Now that Arthur is king, he doesn't usually ride out to deal with these things in person, but since Morgana declared war, such problems cannot be taken lightly and must be thoroughly investigated."_

" _And Merlin went with him," I stated as a fact, not a question. The manservant was never far from his king's side, and certainly not on missions like these. It seemed to me that Gaius was hoping I'd drop the subject there. And I almost did. But as I began to eat my porridge, an uneasy feeling settled in my stomach along with my breakfast. And then a worrisome idea occurred to me._

" _Mordred went with them, didn't he?"_

" _He was one of the first to volunteer." I groaned, and put my head in my hands._

" _Now, Bailey," Gaius reprimanded, "there's no reason to believe that Mordred will attempt something awful, or that something will go wrong. Have more faith in him than that! And, I happened to speak to Merlin before they left, and informed him of most of what you told me. He said Mordred wasn't acting unusually upset or manic or anything of the sort."_

" _It's not just all that!" I exclaimed, frustrated and feeling miserable all over again._

" _Then what is the problem?"_

" _It's just…" I sighed, and chuckled a little bitterly, "just that I'm going to…_ _miss_ _him!" This was said fiercely and a little pathetically, both an admission and whiny complaint. "Who knows how long they could be gone for!" Gaius had nothing to say after that. I mean, what could he say? While the old man was very adept at dealing with Merlin's issues, teenage girls were in short supply at the castle of Camelot. Especially girls who were madly in love for the first time!_

* * *

 ***"Into the Woods (Prologue)" - Into the Woods, Act 1, Scene 1**


	10. Waiting

_9_

 _Waiting_

 _(or otherwise known as the torturous curse that plagues girls_

 _with over-active imaginations)_

 _ **Day 4:**_

 _I was lying awake, staring up at the beams and thatches of the roof above me. I couldn't sleep. I hadn't been able to get more than a few hours of sleep since Mordred had left on that damned patrol._

 _There was no relief._

 _Tonight, I was determined not to even let myself drift. I was beyond tired, and would have loved to slip away to that blissful oblivion of sleep for even just a few moments – except it wasn't blissful (although oblivion might still work)._

 _I was afraid of the things I saw when I closed my eyes, even for a few mere moments. My imagination dredged up scenes - such terrible scenes - of Mordred going berserk and killing everyone, of Arthur being injured somehow and my Druid knight sabotaging any of Merlin's efforts to save him. Scenarios of: Merlin being exposed; Mordred being exposed; various members of the group being captured, tortured, injured, traumatized; Morgana showing up and causing trouble; Mordred joining her; him revealing just who Emrys was like in the show._

 _My mind's eye spared me none of the gory, excruciating details._

 _Vivid imaginings of all those events and more, things that weren't even likely, but possible, any and all unforeseen probabilities plagued me day and night, because this wasn't just happening in my dreams. My mind was whirling constantly. I was never free, and could never avoid it for long._

 _I'd had enough, and had given up on sleep. And if that wasn't enough…_

" _He doesn't love you anymore. He_ _hates_ _you."_

 _I_ _hated my persistent voice in the back of my head. I also hated that I knew it was right._

" _Even if he comes back, he won't want to see you. You've lost him, all because of your stupidity…" I shook my head violently in an effort to drown it out. The_ _missing_ _flared again, and I grit my teeth and dug my nails into my palms to refrain from crying out. This missing and yearning was by far the most acutely painful I'd ever experienced. Though I'd been fully aware of how much Mordred meant to me, I'd still managed to take him for granted and just assume he'd always be there. I hadn't realized how much time I spent with him or how often I needed to see him to feel like myself. I'd never simply missed another human being's presence like I missed his._

 _One tear leaked out, and then another. I bit my lip, going so far as to draw blood, but that couldn't stop the sob that escaped. And once that sob – the sob that had been building and growing like a cancer – got free, I couldn't stop the rest of them. The sounds I was making frightened me, but I couldn't stop them or calm them or quiet them. I had no control, a terrifying and cutting truth._

 _I cried so hard that it hurt, deep and tight in my chest like it did when I coughed when I was ill. I cried some more. I knotted my hands in my long curls and pulled, but that only helped marginally – and to pull harder would have resulted in hair loss._

 _I tried calling out to Mordred in my mind, something I'd been doing since he left, but I had no way of knowing if my calls could possibly reach him or if he was just ignoring them. Since these were not calls of words, but full of all the pain I was currently experiencing, to ignore them would have required a hardened heart indeed._

 _I only cried harder after that, wondering how one tiny girl could have so many tears and so many feelings inside her. Only when the tiniest ray of sunshine slipped in through the cracks in the walls and onto my blanket could I bring myself to stop. And to breathe._

 _Call me dramatic, call me an overzealous worrier, call me obsessive and call me insane. That doesn't change what I was feeling._

* * *

 _ **Day 7:**_

 _BANG! BANG!_

" _The Queen commands your presence immediately." Cautiously, I opened the door to face Sir Leon glaring at me. Wary of how tense he was, I obliged, nodding and following him up to the castle._

 _I considered my knowledge of the castle to be formidable - after watching the T.V. show a billion times, the tour Mordred had given me, the ball, and all my various visits, all its mazes and twists and turns had met their match in me. But, I had only had maybe one or two hours of sleep in the last week. I was barely coherent; Elaine had made me stay home from my stall today, which was why I was at home when Leon called upon me (however well-meant, Elaine's attempt to get me to rest was worse for me because I had nothing to do to keep my mind occupied). I stumbled, pitifully slowly, after Leon, until he ran back in frustration and grabbed my wrist in order to pull me along. I was so numb I couldn't even protest his strong grip. It was still hard to follow him on my short, exhausted legs._

 _Finally, they just gave out underneath me, and I fell to the floor with a brief whimper of pain, nearly dragging Leon with me. As it was, he managed to keep his grip on my wrist; I suspected it would bruise later. He tugged on it in an effort to get me back to standing._

" _Stand up."_

" _I…can't."_

" _Can't, or won't?" In Leon's defense, it was dark in the corridor, and he probably hadn't even taken a good look at me once today; if he had, he would have seen the bags under my eyes, which were red and puffy, and the pallor of my skin. He would have seen my matted hair, and registered that I was wearing the same dress I'd worn yesterday because I didn't have the strength to wash my others._

 _He had not seen nor registered these things, and his gruff question put me over the edge._

" _I…just…CAN'T anymore. And I know you think I'm silly or stupid or not to be trusted but…" I began to sob again, quietly at first, but with increasing volume as time went on (I had no control, which we've established). Leon was so taken aback he dropped my wrist. I drew my arms into my chest, curling up and into myself in a weak attempt at some physical comfort._

 _It must have been quite the sight, Sir Leon looming over me as I cried in a ball on the castle floor. Gradually, my cries petered off into whimpers, which stopped short when I felt a hand on my hair. I looked up, shocked into silence, to be met with Leon's face as he crouched in front of me. I sat up._

 _Then, before the knight could say anything, I asked, in a voice used more for sobbing in the past week than for speaking, "Why don't you like me?" Leon turned his face away in a gesture that might have meant he was a little ashamed._

" _I…don't like how enamoured Mordred is with you. He has not been his usual, focused self. I thought you had to be dangerous to hold such power as a knight's heart in such a short time. It was obvious he loved you." I winced at the past tense and the fact that it hadn't been_ _that_ _obvious to me._

 _I clarified, "Me. Having power?"_

 _Leon nodded, deathly serious. "It even occurred to me that he might have been enchanted by you, or that you might have been a servant of Morgana."_

 _Somehow, the absurdity of it all caused me to laugh. I laughed like I cried: without control. That lack of control lasted until I saw Leon's face staring at me with undisguised fear and wariness. I sobered up quickly._

" _And now?" my voice was pitiful and raspy. "What do you think of me now?"_

 _Leon responded with a question of his own: "Do you love him? Truly?"_

 _There was no need to ask who the 'him' was. I drew in a deep breath, feeling all the lava and this burning of missing_ _him_ _in every part of me, every single cell that made me up. Every fibre that could no longer ignore the answer to Leon's question. I declared, "More than I thought it possible to love someone. And that's the one truth I do know."_

 _Leon stared for another brief second. Then, he bent down to help me up, and I thought we might be at some sort of a truce for now._

 _We turned off down a corridor I hadn't even noticed existed, and wound up in a garden space I'd never seen. Gwen sat on a bench under a tree, and rose when she saw me._

" _Thank you, Leon. That will be all." He bowed and left._

" _Your Majesty…" Gwen raised an eyebrow and I amended, "Gwen. What is this place?"_

 _She smiled. "Arthur had it constructed for me a few years back. Everyone needs solitary moments sometimes, and I think he saw that I didn't always wish to be 'Queen Guinevere'. Isn't it marvellous?"_

" _It is!" I gazed around at the peaceful little spot. It was open to the sun, though the walls rose high, and was full of flourishing plant life. There were two benches at either end, and a burbling fountain at the center. I loved it immediately._

" _So," I began, as we sat on the bench nearest us, "why did you summon me, Gwen?" The Queen looked down at her lap. And then burst into tears! I was alarmed and surprised. "Gwen? What did I say?! I'm so sorry!" She waved away my apology and dried her eyes daintily._

" _No, I'm sorry, Bailey. I called you here unexpectedly and I don't mean to unload all my worries onto you. But…I think you might understand what I'm going through."_

 _I nodded, grasping it now. "Of course. I'm here." I paused. "Is it always like this for you when he goes away?"_

" _It depends on where he is and what he's doing," she replied. "On excursions such as these, it usually hits me right about now. But with the war with Morgana," her voice got a little weepy, "it makes me worry more!" I put my arm around Gwen as she shed more tears, and shed a few more of my own (thankfully with more control than before)._

 _I didn't mean to unload my troubles onto her either, but I murmured, "At least you're sure of your King's love when he returns!" in a weak voice. Then it was Gwen's turn to hug me sympathetically. "We had a fight the night before they left," I explained in a whisper. She started in surprise._

" _But you were looking so splendidly happy at the ball…"_

" _I messed up. Hugely. I…I was distrustful and distant and I drove him away often. It came to a head that night. I think I'm one of the reasons that he volunteered so quickly. He just wanted to get away from me so fast!" I sobbed, not accustomed to this kind of throbbing pain about a boy._

 _Gwen patted my back, murmuring soothingly, "Bailey, Mordred loves you! I've rarely seen a boy look at a girl the way he looks at you!"_

" _I know he did love me, but after what I did, I'm not sure he still could!"_

 _Gwen gave me a stern look. "I'm sure you know what happened after Arthur proposed the first time, Bailey. But I'm going to preach it all the same. After what I did to Arthur with Lancelot, I thought there was no way he'd ever take me back. I thought I was doomed to live a lonely life, where the only man I could ever truly love hated me, and all through my own doing." I of course knew what Gwen was referring to, and I also knew that it was Morgana's sorcery to blame and not Gwen herself. A little different than my issue. "But I underestimated what love could do, because Arthur still loved me. And look at us now!" She leaned in close and whispered fiercely, "You must have faith Bailey!"_

 _Fresh tears rolled down my cheeks. "I fear you are wrong, Gwen. And I fear more people may pay for my mistake than just myself and Mordred. I'm just…filled with so much guilt!" I sobbed anew. Gwen, bless her beautiful soul, didn't press, though I'm sure she was a little alarmed._

 _We cried together, Queen Guinevere and I, and I did leave that meeting feeling more peaceful than I had in a while. But I didn't let myself hope for Mordred. I'm sure going through that pain would have been enough to kill me._

* * *

 _ **Day 11:**_

 _I was heading back to my lonely house (slowly) after running some menial and absolutely necessary errands. I was very familiar with this part of the lower town, and so I was surprised when I passed an alleyway that I could have sworn had not been there the last week. I had been sleeping marginally better once Gwen and I started meeting regularly to commiserate in companionship, so I was fairly certain I could trust my eyes. In fact, as I looked closer, I thought I could place where I'd seen this tiny alley before._

 _Without really thinking, I ran back the way I'd came. A few doors down was a girl maybe only a few years older than me selling small bouquets of wildflowers. I bought one full of white and blue blooms, and ran back to the alley, panting slightly._

 _This was the most alive I'd felt since that night at the ball._

 _My suspicions were proved true when I exited the alley in Mordred's tiny, sun-filled, magical square. I almost smiled._

 _And then, in the fading daylight, I tore all the stems off as quickly as I could, and set all the flowers adrift with only one person in mind. I didn't know any Druidic prayers or prayers of the Old Religion, but I hoped I could make up for that in sentiment._

" _Keep him safe and good," I begged. "And just bring him back soon."_

* * *

 _ **Day 17:**_

 _Gwen was expecting the party to return any day now. We were both exceptionally jumpy and desperate for any word that confirmed that. It was near the end of a long Monday at the stall (after a weekend of jumping to my feet every time a cart rolled by my window) and, suddenly, the sound of many approaching horses could be heard. I felt everything inside me freeze as everyone on the street stopped what they were doing. 'OhGodohGodohGod!' went my brain. 'Mor-dred, Mor-dred, Mor-dred,' went my heart, falling into rhythm with the approaching hoof beats. Everyone stared down to the end of the street. I felt that I was staring as if my life depended on it! The waiting was absolute agony._

 _Then, mercifully, the first rider appeared, and it was none other than Arthur himself, followed closely by Merlin. At first glance, they both appeared to be in perfect health, so I didn't pay any attention to them after my cursory glance. Knight after knight filed in, and none were the one I was searching for. I was just starting to genuinely panic, when he rode in, breathing heavily and gazing around wildly. His eyes stopped roving when they landed on me, but they were unreadable. I'm not sure if my heart plummeted or lept or what, but it definitely did some crazy contortions._

" _ **Welcome home, Mordred…**_ _" I, despite my strangled heart, had decided to make the first, bold move (through mental conversation of course!) So quickly that I almost missed it, Mordred flashed a grin. It might have been my imagination, but it almost looked like his eyes had a misty sheen of tears._

" _ **Good to be home, Bailey…**_ _" I stepped out from my stall, prepared to run to him and have the intense discussion that we desperately needed right there in the middle of the street. His response had filled me with hope to the point of distraction. I would have my heart-to-heart. I would do it here, even if everyone stared. I was done. Done with lying to him and missing him. But then, as if nothing had happened, Mordred spurred his horse and rode off to the castle, without so much as a glance back at my dashed hopes trampled in the dust._

* * *

 **Yay! That was a pretty quick update. I mean, my schedule's kinda screwed up now but it would have been anyway because summer. Huge, HUGE thanks to RoxyMoxy7625 for EVERYTHING! Thank you! And to Royiah, naturally, and to all of you for reading. Thank you. It means so much to me. I like the next chapter a lot, so I hope you will too.**


	11. Wise Advice From an Unexpected Source

_10_

 _Love and Life Advice from an Unlikely Source_

 _After Mordred rode away, as I packed up my stall, I was a transformed girl, a robot simply going through the motions. This happened sometimes at home, in my normal life. I would get quiet and morose and stare off into the distance. People would ask what was wrong, and I'd say 'I'm thinking.' Except the truth of the matter was that I wasn't thinking about anything at all. This was what happened here. I put everything away, nothing happening in my mind. Then, I toted it all home as the sun set._

 _I got scared when I turned into an automaton like this. The only thing worse than feeling like shit was when you had been feeling like shit for so long that your brain just stopped registering it. That was how this event felt to me; like when you go into shock after a traumatic experience._

 _"Guess I'd rather hurt then feel nothing at all…*" As I sat in the kitchen of my tiny house, with that line from the Lady Antebellum song the only thing going through my head, I had a sudden epiphany. I grabbed my cloak and was out the door before I had even considered the consequences._

* * *

 _"Merlin!" I cried, barging into Gaius' chambers so quickly that the door bounced on its hinges. "Merlin, I need to talk to you!" Thankfully, it was not very late. Merlin and Gaius were seated at the table, finishing their dinner. They were staring at me in utter surprise._

 _"Bailey…" Merlin finally managed. He had a bemused smirk stretched across his face. "Gaius just finished relaying to me everything you told him. It's extraordinary!" His eyes softened. "I'm so very sorry that this is what you've been dealing with – I wish you would have confided in me."_

 _I just shrugged, feeling awkward and uncertain. "You have enough on your plate…"_ _Merlin rolled his eyes, and I suddenly felt defensive._ _"Would you have even believed me if I dared tell you?" I cried._

 _"We believe you now." Gaius, the voice of reason, brought me up short. I felt very silly and naïve, and my red face showed it. Merlin nodded._

 _"But…why?" I asked. "How do you know I'm not some minion of Morgana's?" It was Merlin's turn to look a little ashamed._

 _He murmured, "I had dreams about you before you showed up."_

 _I blinked at him._

 _"And in these dreams, you were helping me and guiding me, and in need of those things yourself…" Instantaneously, I remembered why I had come to the pair at a later hour._

 _"Can we talk about this later, Merlin?" I begged. "I have a favour to ask of you."_

 _"Of course, Bailey." He was caught off guard by my interruption, but nodded to support his words._

 _I gulped, and then, in a great rush, told him what I wanted done. Merlin hastily stood up from his dinner. "I'll be back in about two hours, Gaius! No need to wait up if you're tired!"_

 _As swift as the wind from one of his conjured hurricanes, Merlin lead me down to the stables, prepped us a horse for the journey, and helped me up onto the animal. It was lucky that he had finally learned where I came from, because I would have failed miserably had the warlock expected me to keep up with him on a horse of my own._

 _We headed out of the gates of Camelot, riding at full tilt. It was exhilarating and a little frightening, and I clutched at Merlin's waist a little tighter._

 _He called back to me, "Surely your 'automobiles' in the future go much faster than this old nag." I could hear the smile in his voice. "Don't tell me you're frightened!"_

 _"We're inside most transport machines," I gasped out, and involuntarily squeezed him tighter as the horse leapt over a stream. "Much more protected!" Merlin just chuckled and assured me we would be there in less than a half hour._

* * *

 _True to his word, we dismounted about twenty minutes later. Though I knew where we would be going and what we would do there, I still found it unnerving. The great expanse of grass before me looked silver in the moonlight. The clearing looked much larger than on the show, the trees around me much taller, and the slivery grass waved in the wind like the arms of a great crowd of people. And this was an ordinary clearing in a (mostly) ordinary forest…what would I do when_ _he_ _showed up?_

 _I stayed by the trees (because I'm a coward) while Merlin moved to stand in the middle of the clearing. When he threw his head back to the sky and called to the dragon in its language, chills raced up my arms. I thought, 'Good God, what have you gotten yourself into, Bailey?'_

 _For several tense seconds, we waited in the night silence. We didn't have to wait long before that silence was broken up by a loud buffeting noise. Whatever had wings large enough to make a sound such as that had to be massive!_

 _And then Kilgharrah landed._

 _The Great Dragon was certainly_ _great_ _\- if what those who had named him thus meant by great was massive, impressive, and hugely terrifying. I didn't know how Merlin could be so close to the dragon, so near to those teeth and those claws and the flames he could spew. The facts that by this time Kilgharrah had helped Merlin save Arthur and Camelot many times or that he was Merlin's friend didn't register. I had asked Merlin to summon this ancient creature, and yet facing him (witnessing him across a field; same difference!) I was petrified._

 _"Greetings, young warlock." The dragon bowed his great head to Merlin, who responded in kind._

 _"Greetings."_

 _"What do you need my assistance with this time?" Kilgharrah swung his head from side to side, gazing around the clearing, but either he didn't see me in the shadows of the trees, or elected to ignore me. The latter struck me as the most likely. "I do not see any bandits, armies, or creatures that you would require help in escaping this time." Though it was hard to tell because of his snout and scales, I thought I could detect some amusement and humour in the dragon's tone. I clenched my fists, steeling my stomach for what I would need to do. Then, I began to walk forward._

" _Nothing of that sort this time around, old friend," Merlin replied. "In fact, it is not I who have a question for you, but my friend, Bailey." By now, I had made it half-way to where Merlin and the dragon stood. When Kilgharrah's large, yellow eyes fixated on me, however, I froze and felt my courage drain into my legs._

" _You have to know," my inner voice chimed, for once providing some helpful encouragement. "Go on."_

 _Almost as if he could hear my thoughts, the dragon said, in a gentler tone, "Ah, yes. The time-jumper. No need to be frightened, young lady. I promise not to bite you in two." Yes, there was definitely humour there. Suddenly filled with anxiousness to know, I ran the rest of the distance to them. It was strange, but once I was closer to Kilgharrah, he no longer looked so threatening. I went to stroke his snout on a reflex, but froze again._

" _Um…" I cleared my throat. "May I?" He nodded, and I laid my hand on his scales. "Hello," I murmured, feeling proud of myself for being somewhat brave. Then, as I pulled my hand away, something he'd said registered, and I asked, "So…you know who I am?"_

" _Your arrival caused quite a stir among all the creatures, my dear, though I take it that was not the question you wished to ask me."_

 _I blushed, but then asked another question that popped into my mind: "Neither is this one…if you know who I am and knew of my arrival…do you know what brought me here and why?" I was greatly disappointed when the dragon shook his head._

" _There are some forces out there beyond even what I can understand. There may be some I am not even aware of." I must have looked pretty dejected, because he added, "All I know is that there is always a reason for these things, especially to something as bizarre as this. It was not a random occurrence, you waking up here."_

" _Then…you don't believe that whatever brought me here had evil purposes…do you?" This had been plaguing my thoughts for some time._

 _Those wide, yellow dragon eyes narrowed. "This ties in to the question you wish to ask?" - it was my turn to nod - "No. I know you were not brought here by an enemy of Albion." I breathed a sigh of relief. "Now, what is it you_ _really_ _wish to ask me?" I turned back to look at Merlin, who had been silent since I had approached and was watching with avid interest. He nodded in encouragement for me to continue._

" _Do you…" I took a deep breath, and began again. "Is it at all possible that Mordred's destiny has been changed? Does he still remain a threat to Arthur, and would he become one if…if I…well, if we…" Kilgharrah cut me off there._

" _The Druid boy," he looked at me thoughtfully, "and the time-jumper. I see." I looked down at my feet and dug my toe into the grass self-consciously, kind of wishing that he didn't 'see'. "That is most interesting. Yes, his destiny no longer lies with Arthur's death. I had assumed this change had something to do with your arrival, but I never would have guessed…" I felt my face flush, but my heart and hopes were whirling. Mordred's destiny had been changed! "Young time-jumper, I may not know why you were brought here, but I do know that the Druid boy poses no threat to the young King anymore." Kilgharrah lowered his head and looked at me, not unkindly. Then, the dragon gazed over my head at Merlin. "You have much to thank this young time-jumper for, Merlin. And whoever or whatever brought her here. She has more than dealt with one of the biggest threats to ever face you and your King." Merlin beamed back at his friend, and then at me._

" _And, Bailey," the dragon rumbled, "What happens now I cannot say. Your presence here has changed absolutely everything, and nothing can be certain. But it strikes me that you might possibly be the person who knows Mordred best. You are in the best position to make a decision on this matter. I can not tell you what to do anymore than you know what you should do. However, as a creature that has lived for thousands of years, and has seen many people grow to regret many things, my dear, I wouldn't let the fact that things may go awry get in the way of your happiness. If you take anything away from our words here today, take that."_

 _I felt as if the world around me had been transformed. It was like I had been reading with one light out and not aware of it. When the light suddenly flickers back on and you see how difficult a time you were having reading in the dimness, you feel like a fool. But you also feel free and grateful and relieved. It was a light-headed euphoria._

 _Because of this, I was completely relieved of all my previous fear of Kilgharrah. Maybe a little_ _too_ _relieved. With a cry, I threw my arms around his head. I heard Merlin gasp a little. I knew I had gone too far in his book. Fortunately, Kilgharrah was just as surprised as Merlin and I. He simply made a rumbling noise deep in his throat. I didn't tell him this, but it sounded like a cat purring._

" _You're welcome," the Great Dragon said, as I stepped back from our hug. Everything around me was bathed in a new light. The news that Mordred was safe, and that I was free to make my own decisions about him had lit up the night. And Kilgharrah was the cause. I cried "Thank you!" repeatedly as the majestic beast rose into the sky to take flight._

* * *

" _So," Merlin said, as we rode back to Camelot, "Mordred is no longer a threat." His voice was precisely neutral, and it was difficult for me to tell what he was thinking as I couldn't see his face. It reminded me a little too closely of the all-too-familiar Season Five Merlin from the show, the guarded and sorrow-filled version of the man in front of me. I had seen very little in my time here that corroborated that man, but this in front of me gave me pause. I felt my elation dim somewhat._

" _Do you not trust Kilgharrah?" I admit, my voice was_ _slightly_ _panicky._

 _Merlin was silent for a long while. "I've grown to. I've had to. He's helped me, and Camelot, many times."_

" _To make up for what he did when you freed him?" my inner voice inquired, but I silenced it with a slight shake of my head. Out loud, I asked, "Then, what is it?" Merlin again was quiet long enough that my mind started to wander to the fact that he had dreamed about me before I'd arrived. I didn't particularly recall him ever displaying seer-like powers on the show…_

" _I think I can learn to trust Mordred." I started when Merlin began speaking again. "I will try." I thought about how hard that might be for him, even with Kilgharrah's quite weighty assurances. I knew little about dragons, but I suspected they weren't always correct about things. "It just makes me wonder about…" Merlin sighed heavily, "If…if I'd just helped Morgana when she needed me, or if someone like you had shown me that I needed to…" He couldn't seem to go on, but I understood. I rested my head on Merlin's back, trying to convey some sense of comfort for him. It was clear to both of us that the Priestess was beyond his reach now, and I couldn't imagine the guilt that Merlin must have been feeling. My elated feeling dimmed more with these thoughts, but it bounced back up the closer we rode to home. It may have been too late for Morgana, but I had to believe that what Kilgharrah said was true. This was not difficult, taking the dragon's words at face value - hope was something I'd always been pretty good at recovering from the battered depths of my soul._

 _I knew it would be too late to do anything with the amazing knowledge Kilgharrah had given me when we returned to Camelot that night, but I swore I would talk to Mordred the next day. I could finally settle the tumultuous landscape that was my heart - I would, one way or another._

* * *

 ***"Need You Now" - Lady Antebellum**

 **Ok. I feel I need to say a few things about how I interpret Kilgharrah. I've read plenty of fics where he is certainly less than helpful; more trouble than he is worth. I certainly think he is at fault for some of Merlin's mistakes (*cough* Morgana and Mordred *cough*) and is out for his own gain, at least in Season One and Two. But I also feel that he did help Merlin a lot, and I kinda have to believe he wanted what was best for Merlin in the end. Otherwise I just get even more angry about the end and Mordred and all that.**

 **I like this chapter- I hope it doesn't feel like I've wrapped it all up too well...There's still plenty more to come! I love, love, LOVE the next chapter, so there's little I have to fix in it, so it should be up pretty soon.**

 **Huge thanks to CaptainWolfy for the review, and, as always, Royiah, and to all who keep reading this - it means so much!**

 **Are you sick of my thanks yet? :)**


	12. Confessional

***WARNING: The following is a lengthy, over-dramatic chapter with much angst and fluff. Read at Your own risk!**

 **Also, Bailey makes a million references to things in this, namely musicals and lines from musicals, and I'll inform you of some of the abbreviations she uses here:**

 **Les Mis = Les Miserables, Phantom = The Phantom of the Opera, West Side = West Side Story. In Canada, social studies classes in schools are like history, ethics, and economics all rolled into one. It's stupid, but whatever.**

 **I don't own any of the things she quotes, nor do I own Merlin or Mordred.**

* * *

 _11_

 _Confessional_

 _The lovely feeling of joy and relief still encased me like a blanket as I prepared for bed. I hummed a nonsensical tune as I braided my hair by the flickering candlelight. It had been a long day, full of rollercoaster-like twists and turns. But all that seemed inconsequential now._

 _I was nearing the end of my braid when there came a knock at the door. I stood, my hair forgotten, and wrapped my dressing gown around me a little tighter. I was surprised; it wasn't so late as to be worrisome, about ten p.m. I'd wager, but Elaine and the kids would certainly not be out at this hour, and the rest of my friends were up at the castle. Cautiously, I walked to the door. I didn't have a peephole, this being long before they were invented, but there was a small hole in the door. Gwen said she had carved it herself after being kidnapped and surprised so often. I had to stand on my tip-toes to see out, but it was useful all the same._

 _I peered through this hole apprehensively. When I saw who was on the other side, I wheeled away from the door, supressing a multi-emotional gasp. Before I'd really composed myself, I had flung the door open wide and was staring at the person in front of me._

 _"Mordred…what a…surprise…" It must have been raining, because the Druid's hair was plastered to his pale face. It made him look young and vulnerable._

 _"Bailey…" he began weakly, but trailed off. I waited for him to say more, to provide an explanation for his presence here perhaps, but he simply stared at me. I noticed he was trembling just a tad. Was he cold? He wasn't wearing a cloak, just a blue shirt and brown breeches. Mordred shifted from foot to foot, seemingly at a loss for words. And then it hit me; he was nervous! And standing at my front door in the rain and blushing. I felt a giggle threaten to rise out of me. Mordred rarely blushed! I wanted to grab him and wrap my arms around him then. I wanted to tell all that I knew and apologize_ _profusely_ _and just inform him how much I loved him. I wanted to sing his name (say it loud and there's music playing/say it soft and it's almost like praying*)_

 _Instead, all I said was, "Would you like to come in?" Mordred started, flushed a little pinker, gave himself a shake, and finally nodded. I moved aside, and he hustled past me like a man pursued. I closed the door behind him and latched it shut. My hands were shaking. I leaned against the door, without glancing back to see what Mordred was doing, and pressed my palms into the wood, hoping that might stabilize them. It took a couple minutes and several deep breaths, but the violent tremors eventually subsided. Then, and only then, did I turn around._

 _The young knight was kneeling on my floor, hands clasped imploringly in front of him. He looked pale and wild, soaked through to the skin and shaking as he was. There were tears brimming in those lovely eyes of his. 'Mordred,' I thought, but couldn't push his name past my lips._

 _"Oh, Bailey," Mordred cried, "How can you ever forgive me?" I sort of fell back against the door, too taken by surprise to even muster a response. When I didn't say anything, Mordred rushed on in a panic. "I was just so…so_ _angry_ _, you see. I felt betrayed! My worst fault is my anger, Bailey. It gets ahead of me and I don't think straight and that's when the unspeakable things happen!" I simply stared, words having failed me. "You were the only person who understood me, who knew the most about my past and my magic, but didn't distrust my motives here in Camelot and in service to the king." I thought about all that Kilgharrah had told me (and Merlin) and took a breath to mention this to Mordred. But he was on a roll, and there would be no stopping him._

 _"But then," his breathing was becoming ragged, "it turned out I was wrong and you didn't trust me. I'd been suffering with love for you for so long, Bailey! I couldn't stay, I couldn't think straight looking at your beautiful, tear-stained face. I was afraid of what I might do, so I left. I ran, and when the news about the village and the bandits reached me, I jumped at the chance. I thought leaving the city, leaving_ _you_ _, would give me time to sort through everything. I thought it might even allow me to forget my feelings for you…" here he chuckled mirthlessly, "as if they were some fanciful crush I could easily dismiss!" It was here that I had to speak up. My pain wouldn't allow me to remain so silent any longer._

 _"And could you?" I whispered. "Could you easily dismiss me?" I had intended to say_ _it_ _or_ _your feelings_ _, but that clearly wasn't what I really meant._

 _"Well, that first day, I really just nursed my anger. I thought if I just kept getting angrier by the day, then when I returned I could tell you off in as civil and cold manner as I could manage and be done with it."_

 _"Be done with me." I murmured. I sagged against the door, not wanting to meet his eyes. I had thought my murmurings too quiet to be heard, but those Druids had the hearing of bats._

 _Mordred stepped out of his explanation for a minute to say, "I'm done hiding things from you, Bailey. I'm telling you_ _everything_ _, in hopes that…that you…we…" his voice wobbled, but he shook his head resolutely and then continued._ _"That was what I thought the first day. But early in the second, Gwaine did something ridiculously stupid, and I filed it under a "Things to Tell Bailey" section of my brain that I didn't even know I had. After that, I missed you terribly." My breath caught. "I woke up every morning melancholier than the day before! I was inconsolable by the time we reached the village! Everything reminded me of you, and the more I thought about you and me and our time together, I came to regret more and more the way I overreacted. I perhaps had a right to be hurt and angry, but just leaving you alone like that? Without listening to you or giving you a chance to explain? It wouldn't surprise me if you never forgive me; I don't think I can forgive myself!"_

 _Before I could comment again, Mordred rushed on ahead of me, his words coming fast and breathless and full of pent-up pain. "And I know that you're wondering why I didn't just say all these things to you in the market today, but the truth is, Bailey, I am a coward. I worked my worry and guilt into such a mess that I was afraid to face you. I didn't think I could take losing you because of my own stupidity. So, I lagged behind at the end of the troupe home. But then…when I saw the gates of Camelot, I knew I had truly returned to the place I genuinely thought of as home. I also knew I wouldn't really be at home until I saw your face, so I spurred my horse to catch up…When I saw you there in the market, everything was alright, but then everything that was wrong came back and crushed me and your sweet voice was speaking in my mind…" Mordred laughed again. "I'm a coward, and I ran away. But it didn't last long. I did some pacing, some squirming, and some ranting in my room back at the castle. After a failed attempt to eat my dinner, I finally decided I couldn't take it anymore, and determined to come here to talk to you right away. I had to plead for forgiveness, so I ran to the front courtyard" - his pleading was going to be the death of me – "and saw something that unleashed my fury all over again."_

 _I thought back to the night's previous events, and when I figured it out, slammed my hand against the door. Merlin, my favour, the horse, my fear, holding onto the other sorcerer for dear life – and Mordred knew nothing of the circumstances! I made to jump in yet again, to take my turn explaining, but Mordred had already moved on._

 _"I was so angry when I saw you and Merlin on the horse. In my mind, he'd stolen your trust in me, and now had stolen you from me. I blamed myself greatly, but like I said, my anger always makes me unreasonable, so I blamed Merlin for everything. I waited for you two to return, and when Merlin came riding back in alone, I raced off to Gaius' chambers to confront him."_

 _"And when you did?" I was feeling light-headed. Following Mordred's haphazard tale was difficult and trying. I wasn't sure what was more frightening, the Mordred of the moonlight, all fury and demands and sharp betrayal, or this Mordred of the rain, all pleas and gasps and run-on sentences. And trying to contain the bright hope and fizzy joy that were trying to explode out of me now because of him wasn't helping._

 _Mordred laughed once again, but this was the laugh of the Mordred I knew._

 _"When I did, I found the pair jubilant about something. They were awfully surprised when I barged in and grabbed Merlin by the collar. But, between the two of them, they calmed me down, and explained_ _everything_ _." Everything! The word bounced around my head, lighting all the dark crevasses and crannies. Every. Thing._

 _"So, Bailey," Mordred gulped. His eyes were shinning around the tears that must have overflowed them at some point during this tale. 'Radiant,' I thought. All wild, bright light and drying curls and trembling limbs. 'Simply radiant.' He flashed a broken smile, and my knees went weak._

 _"I'm so sorry. And I love you. Desperately. Can you ever forgive me?" One heartbeat. Two heartbeats. Three…On Mordred's last laugh, before the light that came from 'everything' and his radiant pleas, I had felt the last twinge of guilt reserved for the last truth I had yet to confess. That guilt had grown, and now it flapped its dark wings in my chest. Mordred's words from before came back to me. "I'm done hiding things from you, Bailey. I'm telling you_ _everything_ _…" Every. Thing._

 _Four heartbeats. Five…_

 _On that fifth heartbeat, I launched myself away from the door, and ran to Mordred, arms outstretched. I clasped his pleading hands in mine and cried, "Mordred, it is I, not you, who should be begging for forgiveness!" We were kneeling, tear-stained face to tear-stained face. "I have still one more thing that I have not told you," I confessed. "I am not from here." Mordred looked like he was about to speak, but I pressed on (my turn!) "Not just from a different kingdom, Mordred! I'm not of_ _this world_ _." I wasn't really looking at his face, afraid I would see that he either thought me mad or was blindingly angry yet again. "I'm from the future, or, at least, I think I am…where Camelot and you and Arthur and Merlin and the Round Table are the stuff of legend and where magic doesn't exist and I don't know how I got here or why and I might go back at any second and…" I stopped._

 _Mordred had taken the strands of hair at the end of my braid (which was quickly unraveling) and was twisting them through his hands. The look on his face was not one of hideous anger, nor was it a mask of fear for my sanity. It was full of wonderment and amusement._

 _Amusement?_

 _"Bailey," he whispered, as his free hand cupped my cheek and made me hold his bright blue gaze with my own. "I already know."_

 _"What?!" I gasped._

 _He chuckled, eyes full of love. "When I said Merlin and Gaius told me everything…" My jaw dropped. He shrugged, and added, "Including the trip you and Merlin took to speak to Kilgharrah."_

 _Well. It seemed Merlin and Gaius had gone to the trouble of confessing for me!_

 _"And you're…" I struggled for the words I wanted (a rare experience for me.)_

 _"Alright with it?" Mordred completed. I nodded. "It only makes you more amazing and precious in my eyes." I felt like every emotion was overflowing, pouring, oozing, seeping out of me. It was too much. I swayed on my knees. Mordred opened up his arms and I kind of fell into them. We swayed together then, almost like we were back on the dance floor of the throne room and everything was like it had been before. Except better. There were no more secrets or apologies or truths to say._

 _Mordred chuckled, and his breath stirred my hair. "It actually makes a lot of sense, when you think about it. Gaius and Merlin are of the same mind. It explains so much about your presence and what you know. There was always something different, special, otherworldly about you, Bailey. And now I know why." I nestled closer into the warmth of his arms, feeling like the world was exploding and yet, at the same time, that it was at peace._

 _We stayed like that for a long while, not saying anything, until Mordred said softly, "You still haven't told me if I'm forgiven." I drew back from the embrace a little so I could look him in the eye. His beauty was almost painful for me._

 _I thought, 'How can you_ _want_ _to be mine?' but said aloud, "I thought that might have been a given."_

" _What with the hug and all?"_

" _Yeah…"_

" _Well…" he grinned at me, a tad sheepish. "I was assuming it was. But…I believe those things need to be said aloud. Don't you?"_

 _I nodded and asked, "Do you forgive_ _me_ _?"_

" _Bailey…you know I do!"_

" _Then do you even need to ask?"_

* * *

 _We wound up sitting on my bed, doing nothing but talking._

 _We talked for hours. At one point, Mordred's stomach let loose a loud complaint. I recalled that he had mentioned a failed attempt at eating dinner during his long-winded explanation/apology. I brought out some fresh fruit picked from the garden yesterday, everything inside me feeling fuzzy because I had been the reason he couldn't eat. This snack break did nothing to slow the conversation._

 _Mordred spoke of the years not covered on the show, after fleeing the warlock Alvarr's camp by killing two knights that Merlin had left to kill him. It was a subject we had always carefully danced around; he didn't know how much I knew of his past and future beforehand. Now that he did, and that we had both agreed to_ _ **no more lies ever**_ _, he told me whatever I wished to know. And some stuff I wasn't quite sure that I did!_

 _He had been close to twelve the last time we (the audience) had seen Mordred as a child, and the years between the attack on the camp and him meeting up with Arthur and Merlin near Ismere had been difficult indeed._

 _Mordred had simply fled, having no one to turn to anymore. He spoke of searching for other Druids, to reconnect with his people, but most had gone into hiding. Those that hadn't were planning their revenge, but though he had anger aplenty, most laughed in his adolescent face when he asked to join them. He spent three-ish years on the streets, in forests and caves, anywhere he could scrape together life's necessary requirements. And then, one miraculous day in the market place of some small town in Nemeth, he ran into Kara. The two had grown up in the same Druid encampment, and had been childhood friends. Mordred had lost touch with everyone from that camp (except for his father, who had escaped with him) in an attack by Uther's men._

 _"My mother died in that attack," he murmured. "The knights' orders had clearly been to eradicate." I didn't know what to say, and just put my hand on his shoulder in what I hoped was a comforting gesture. He flashed a grateful smile and continued._

 _After that chance meeting in Nemeth, he and Kara struck out together._

 _"I was fifteen. And I had finally found someone I knew I could trust, after years of having to survive on my own. You can't imagine the relief, the joy…"_

 _"No. I really can't."_

 _Naturally, they fell in love. Or, "the closest thing to it," Mordred claimed. They were all the other needed in the world. After all, everyone and everything else had either been cruelly ripped away (Kara's father had died saving her in that same attack. She didn't know if her mother had even escaped, and had been looking for her ever since) or had deserted them to the cruel realities of the world._

 _They had their differences. Mordred had said he was angry, but when he had Kara, revenge against Uther and his kin and all those who opposed magic hadn't really been on the forefront of his mind._

 _"She was enough for me." He looked at his hands in quiet contemplation. I couldn't tell if it was sorrow-filled or not._

 _He had not been enough for Kara, however. She had loved him,_ _did_ _love him, Mordred believed that, but all she could talk and think about was revenge, revenge, revenge. Every waking moment of Kara's was consumed by these thoughts, so much that Mordred often had to do everything he could to keep both of them alive. They constantly got into scrapes, because of Kara's temper, and usually resorted to using their magic to escape. This only reinforced their out-law status. They were always moving, never settled, never still._

 _Mordred lived this way for about a year._

 _"I would have done anything for her. But there is a limit to what I can and could do…" and he was tired, so tired of running and fighting. All he wanted was Kara, but, unfortunately, Kara came with a work-load all her own._

 _It came to an abrupt end when Kara allied herself with a group of self-proclaimed rebels "intent on righting the wrongs and injustices faced by sorcerers and practisers of the Old Religion." Or so they claimed. Kara had breathlessly told Mordred of elaborate plans to hit back after everything the non-magic people had done._

 _"She was so excited, telling me in a rush about plans for attacks and raids. And not just on knights and representatives of these monarchs, but their people as well, Bailey. Attacks on market places, on villages and farms. Her eyes were all ablaze. I loved when she lit up like that. She made me excited about change and possibility, but the fact that it involved plans to hurt innocent people…I couldn't abide that!" So, of course they argued. It began as Kara trying to wheedle him into joining her, but escalated to her threatening to leave him and possibly revealing his whereabouts to several parties interested in trying him for crimes committed. Crimes all committed in Kara's name. So…_

 _"My powers are so closely tied to my emotions, and were even more so back then. I was a young boy in love, and my heart was being broken and my life was being threatened. And all because I didn't agree with the girl I loved. Untrained and unpractised as I was, hurt and desperate as I was, well…" His magic sprang up in response to all this, and sent Kara flying backwards, straight into a tree._

 _"Seeing her unconscious, because of me…I…I…something in me snapped."_

 _He ran away._

 _On the run again, Mordred grew hardened. He gave up trying to hide his magic, and grew to have no qualms about who he hurt with it._

 _"It kept springing out of me and causing harm in spite of my attempts to prevent it. So, I just stopped preventing it." He looked at me then, a little uncertainty clouding his gaze. I just reached out and took his hand. These things he was telling me may have been dark and awful deeds, but they were part of who he was, parts of the man I loved. Nothing he said was going to change the fact that I loved him. I squeezed his hand as I told him all that, and continued to squeeze it throughout the rest of his tale._

 _His dark path only got darker. He eventually grew to a point where he would kill any party he passed on his travels, as well as people who pissed him off, whether they were in public, with witnesses or not. Not to mention actively seeking people of great power who were against the use of magic. Mordred often didn't get close enough to kill these people, but he certainly got close enough to make a mess and leave an impression. He didn't enjoy it, not exactly, but it was freeing for him in a way._

 _"Practically no more inhibitions," he said, eyes wide and hands trembling as he recalled it. "I drew the line at killing women and children, but only barely. There were times when I wanted to…so badly, Bailey…"_

 _Despite his power, and he was powerful with a capital P, when one goes around like Mordred was, one acquired plenty of enemies. Couple that with all the institutions and governments previously searching for him, all the prices on his head and warrants, and the recklessness of his whole manner, Mordred was eventually caught._

 _"It took twenty of this particular king's men to subdue me," Mordred proclaimed, with a slight glimmer of pride in his eye, "and that was after I took out a quarter of their force."_

 _His whole rampage of a sort had only been over the course of about six months. He spent the next six alternating in a communal cell and in a work gang. This king who had captured Mordred was on a kick of erecting statues of himself all over his kingdom. He was quite wise in the ways of magic as well, it would seem, and had special shackles of cold iron forged for Mordred to separate him from his magic._

 _This arrangement was by no means ideal, but aside from the tough work and captivity, Mordred could have had it much worse. This king treated his prisoners rather decently, and the only difference he saw to with Mordred was the cold iron shackles. And there were plenty of others who would have been much less decent had they been the ones to capture him. Mordred figured, had he been captured by anyone else who had him on their hit lists, he would have been killed instantly or tortured, enslaved, and then killed once his use had expired. In fact, the only reason he had not been hanged by this king was for the simple reason that no prisoners were being hanged. At the moment, this king was quite content having his sole work force on his narcissistic project be the contents of his dungeons. The_ _entire_ _contents._

 _As a result of this unpleasant, yet comparatively decent treatment, the sixteen-and-a-half-year-old Mordred learned some valuable life lessons. He grew without his magic, having relied upon it for so long. His guilt at the terrible things he'd done was all-consuming, but, at the sides of some wizened, wise prisoners, Mordred began to regain what Kara had cut out of him._

 _One such prisoner was a man by the name of Alis. Mordred wound up working alongside him in the work gangs, and the old man was to be the driving force of everything that happened next. Alis had been the former king's trusted adviser, and had only served the present king for about a year when he had been thrown into the dungeons for having disagreed with his ruler. The king had been young and foolish, and had grown to see the error of his ways. He had tried to appoint Alis as a supervisor of these construction projects, as a way to work toward pardoning him, but the old man would have none of it. He hadn't wanted to work over his comrades, for he had been in those cells for decades and had formed bonds with the more decent people serving time with him._

 _This was what initially alerted Mordred to him; he hadn't known a man to turn down power since his father had walked this Earth, and that had been many years ago. That started the wheels turning in his mind._

 _In time, Mordred began to see Alis as his own adviser and confessor. The old man took the darkness that Mordred had been plagued by since he had run from Kara, no -since he had run from Alvarr's camp - and turned it into the sort of wise, grave, yet humorous (when the need arose) understanding of the world that was so prevalent in Mordred as I sat with him now. This was helped along by other fellow prisoners - Ayanc, Cawr, and a boy close to Mordred's age, who would become a good friend and remain close to this day, by the name of Drust – and Mordred's innate goodness, as well as all his Druidic teachings._

 _Mordred toughened up, he leaned up, he grew up._

 _And then, coming up on the sixth month of his imprisonment, Alis fell ill. The king, who really did (it surprisingly turned out) want to reconcile with his former adviser, spared no expense. Alis was brought out of the prison and into one of the best rooms in the castle. The others, who were continuing life as usual, had no way of knowing how their mentor was fairing. But when the king came down two weeks later, they all realized the worst had happened._

 _"I remember thinking that at least he had spent his last days in comfort," Mordred said. "That's when I discovered just how different a boy I was from the one who had been brought in sixth months earlier."_

 _The king's presence was not just to inform the inmates of Alis' unfortunate passing, however. Apparently, the old man's last request (which the king had sworn to do upon his life and rule) had been to pardon Mordred of all crimes and release him from custody. And that was what this king did._

 _When the cold iron shackles were removed, after being without his magic for such an extended period of time, Mordred was sick for days, throwing up and burning with fever. But when he did adjust to the thrumming that once again coursed through his veins, the king sent him on his way. Showing some political wisdom in this matter, the king had chosen to not announce Mordred's release at all, and it had been done in the utmost secrecy._

 _"Leaving those castle walls, I realized that I was really and truly free, for perhaps the first time since my father had died," he explained._

 _Freedom. Something Mordred hadn't known since he was about eight years old._

 _And the next three years were to be full of it. He still traveled; it was entirely necessary as he was wanted by so many people from so many different kingdoms with so many different (and wide-reaching) resources. But that he could live with because he. Was. Free._

 _Having his magic back was a God-send, but Mordred was sparser in his usage of it than ever before. Exploitation, capture, exposure, discovery, loss of control; all threats that came along with using it. As well, a revelation that had come with the separation of his magic from himself was that without it, Mordred could do very little in the way of usually common-place practices. So, he refrained from using it to force himself to learn such things that were necessary for those of us without magic._

 _He started with the basics, such as starting a fire and cooking food on it. Eventually, he moved onto protecting himself with a knife and with his hands. Thanks to Druidic training, he could move silently, camouflage decently with surroundings, and had a sufficient knowledge of the natural world, but he learned to utilize these skills to the best of his great abilities._

 _Within time, Mordred became a force to be reckoned with, even without the use of his magic. But the greatest change was that he no longer intentionally harmed people…those that did not wish to harm him first, of course! Mordred lived out his days simply, with no grand plans or revenge schemes or anger to unleash. His only worries were to keep moving, avoiding capture, where to sleep, and what to eat._

 _He blossomed in his solitude._

 _As one year passed, and then two, Mordred began to grow lonely, as even he was wont to. He hadn't had any sort of plan for those past years, but now he began venturing into towns and villages more often, searching for word of people he had once known. This was all done with the appropriate amount of caution, but as time wore on, Mordred grew more desperate._

 _Until, he heard word of Morgana. Not much was being said by the people he talked to - all seemed largely frightened of the subject, and possibly of Morgana herself - but what they would say was exciting and promising. Apparently, she had long since left Uther's court (back when Uther had been alive; Mordred had yet to hear this particular piece of news, however) and was a High Priestess of the Old Religion who was waging war on those against magic._

 _Though Mordred had thankfully stopped killing any he encountered that followed the rule of those against his kind, he still had much anger for those who continued to persecute practisers of magic. Joining Morgana seemed like the perfect solution. What better way to fight for his people than to do it at the side of an old friend of great power, a friend with whom Mordred had a strong connection? But, enemy of many people as she was, Morgana proved to be a difficult person to find._

 _After fifteen or so months of searching and sniffing for even the slightest of word from her or about her whereabouts, Mordred finally had a lead. Using some of his darker past connections, he learned that Morgana was holed up the fortress of Ismere, and was frantically searching for something hidden in the ground beneath the fortress. Her demand for slave workers was great, and many people who dealt in such unpleasant things were going around plundering outlying villages to satisfy Morgana's wishes. Mordred (after wrangling his way up through several questionable organizations) met up with one such group. The group whose leader would catch Arthur and Merlin in one of his game traps (that, incidentally, Mordred had designed and built) which was where my knowledge of his young adult story began._

 _But that didn't mean I wasn't still without my questions._

 _Mordred had gone quiet, trailing off into thought. About what, I could only guess._

 _I left him alone for a few minutes, and then softly asked, "Why did you decide to join Arthur?" He ran his thumb over the back of my hand gently. "You had him at your mercy. Killing him, Morgana would have won and brought magic back to Camelot."_

 _"Would she have been successful though?" I was surprised by this; Mordred smiled in a slightly sad, yet truthful way. "She was so far gone, so far removed from the caring girl I had known. I don't think killing Arthur would have saved or settled her. I don't know what would have happened had she killed him then, but it could have only been for the worse." He shook his head. "I was trying to ignore her instability. I thought maybe, with me around, she might level out. I thought I could help, perhaps talk her down from the worst of it. But then, seeing her macabre joy with Arthur at her feet, I knew no amount of power or victory would ever be enough. As painful as it was, I made a split-second decision. In my heart, I knew Arthur was a good man and king, and as he stood against Morgana, and for what I wanted to stand for, I sided with him." Mordred shifted his position a little and looked at me with a quiet happiness._

 _"Arthur spoke the truth that day," he said, "about love being more important than any power we could wield. Love binds us," I felt shivers run up my spine at the familiar words, "and Morgana has forgotten what power that has. That's why her hatred will never win!" Mordred said this with such utmost confidence and faith that my heart brightened at the prospect._

 _We sat in comfortable, companionable silence for a few moments. He smiled at me with bright eyes. I smiled back at him gently._

" _Mordred?"_

" _Yes?"_

" _Can I just ask you_ _one more_ _thing?"_

 _He sighed theatrically. "I suppose. Just_ _one_ _more. Then it's my turn to pester you!" I nodded. I was greatly looking forward to explaining my world to him. I just hoped I could do so with eloquence and in a way that made some form of sense!_

" _Is the fact that your magic is closely tied to your emotions part of why you don't use it?" I waited, and then rushed on when he didn't immediately answer. "Aside from the fact that it is illegal…?" He was still looking at me quizzically. I squirmed. "Because I've never seen you use it, and Merlin…"_

"… _uses it all the time?"_

" _Well, I've seen him use it more times than I can count since I've been here." Mordred took a deep breath, but it wasn't an unsteady or angry breath. It was more of a natural release._

 _Then, he nodded and said, "Emrys has power, great power, and control I can't even begin to understand. He might not have a full grasp of what his powers can do yet, but I have known few who are so young who have the control that he does. For most of us, it takes years and years of intense training and discipline. Even for those born with natural aptitude and power, like Morgana and myself, it can be difficult. We've had to study and practice,_ _learn_ _, to get to where we are today. And in recent years, as our kind has become more and more persecuted, it has become more and more difficult and dangerous to train kids like myself. And this is the great danger of the ban on magic. Contrary to Uther's beliefs, one can't always choose magic. Few are born with it like Merlin, but it comes into evidence in many during adolescence. If powerhouses like Morgana and me continue to go untrained, then Camelot's state is only going to get worse."_

 _Here he stopped and looked at me sheepishly._

" _Forgive the lengthy lecture," I just shook my head to show I didn't mind, "for you are right. That is why I avoid my magic when I can. It is too unruly, even to this day. In fact," Mordred ran a hand through his curls, and I felt a sudden desire to do the same someday, "the night of the ball, in that corridor, it took all of my strength to hold it inside of me. That…that was_ _terrifying_ _…what if I had lost control and something had happened to you?"_

" _But nothing did," I cut in soothingly. He stared at me, perhaps not entirely convinced of his own restraint. Tentatively, I rubbed my hand over his shoulder like I was massaging it, and he eventually closed his eyes and nodded his head. I waited for a few heartbeats, then once again took it upon myself to break the silence (which, if you know me at all, is not something I am very good at!)_

" _So…since nothing bad happened before, and if you're feeling alright…" One of Mordred's beautiful eyes opened and looked at me curiously. "Perhaps you could…" I trailed off as the other eye opened and they both flooded with understanding. I was suddenly feeling nervous. I couldn't read his face, which had been so open and inviting these past hours._

 _And then…_

 _Mordred whispered an indecipherable word and his blue eyes that I loved so much flashed a familiar but unnatural gold hue. My breath caught in my throat, and then I felt it stop altogether as one of the three strands that made up what was left of my braid slipped free and rose above my head. I felt the other two quickly follow suit. Then, the hand-held mirror that I had been using to do my braid earlier lifted off the table and floated in front of me. Now I could fully see the three strands undulating above my head like they were alive. It was fascinating; not creepy in the slightest! Even as I watched, the larger strands began to split, to halve themselves, and then those new strands also split, until it seemed Mordred had each of my individual hairs writhing by themselves._

 _This was where the fete really started to heat up. My hair strands began to make shapes, twisting and turning whichever way Mordred commanded they go. It started basically, with squares and circles, but built up to such things as dragons and castles (which the dragons then burned down). I remained speechless and breathless as I watched all this in the floating mirror, until the piece de resistance. Mordred had all of my hairs arrange themselves like a fan above and around my head. His eyes flashed golden once again, accompanied by another word that I did not understand in the slightest, and every strand straightened suddenly as if electrocuted. For a few seconds, I had a head of spiked hair. It kind of looked like a mace (I had seen one during the tour of the castle Mordred had taken me on, and in use when I watched the knights' training. They were frightening weapons, let me tell you!) And then, as suddenly as it had begun, my hair dropped back down around my shoulders, as if nothing had even happened. As if it had not been an animated mass atop my head for the last few magical minutes. The mirror also floated back to its original place on the table._

 _Then, all that was left was me staring at Mordred in utter wonderment. I valiantly tried, in the next silent seconds, to come up with an appropriate reaction. To even breath a syllable of response. But I couldn't even manage that. It was then Mordred's turn to break the shocked silence._

" _There," he murmured. It wouldn't have been loud under normal circumstances, but that word was like a sonic boom to my amazed ears and the quiet room._

" _There what?" I finally breathed._

" _I like your hair down. I don't get to see it like that very often." His voice was soft, and a little uncertain. Two weeks ago, I would have held back, or tried to. Two weeks ago, I wouldn't have been sitting beside Mordred in my dressing gown, in such a state of comfort that I hadn't felt since I'd woken up here. Luckily, and to my great happiness, this was two weeks later, and everything between Mordred and myself had changed for the better. Because, two weeks ago, none of this would have been possible._

 _So, I said, with all the joy and confidence that I felt bubbling beneath my skin, "I'll have to make a note of that for future reference!"_

 _The smile that I was rewarded with lit up all the far corners of my heart._

 _And then it was my turn. I tried to begin with the basics, a sort of five-minute social studies class. Fortunately, Mordred was exceptionally bright and picked up most of what I was explaining pretty quickly. Unfortunately, he was also very curious, and asked questions that I didn't always know the answers to. I did my level best, but with most of the technological stuff, my knowledge was basic at best. Descriptions, sound effects, and lots of hand waving were all tools I utilized to their full potential._

 _It was a great relief, telling Mordred about this other world, the place that made me who I was. It was liberating in the highest degree._

 _The best parts were telling him about my family, my friends, who I spent my days with and how I spent them. He got a kick out of how much I detested school, though I was adamant in insisting that high school had its perks while there was nothing beneficial at all about junior high. He was, naturally, amazed and stupefied by all the advancements in technology and medicine. He had me repeat, several times, the average life-span of healthy people, and his wonderment was the most endearing thing! It made me sad to think that I couldn't show him around my world, that there was no way he could ever learn about it like I had learned about his. How he would have loved it. And hated it. Just like I loved and hated Camelot._

 _Telling him about computers and cars and airplanes wasn't the most difficult part, like I had anticipated. And, despite the fact that Mordred didn't see the point of sitting around watching fake people live out fake stories, he seemed to understand the premise around TV and film. Mordred quickly picked up on the strangeness and the altogether fantastical truth that he and everybody in Camelot were the main characters of a TV show that I loved and watched and that was how I knew the things I did. No, what I had the hardest time explaining was Broadway._

 _This was actually alright, because there were few things I loved more than talking about Broadway and the great art form that was the Broadway musical. I got so excited that my words began tripping over themselves in a rush to escape my mouth, which didn't help matters along. But, after going through what Mordred was confused by a second time, much slower in speed, I realized just how badly I was missing this part of me. So, as a result, I didn't just explain what Broadway was; I didn't just regale him with the spectacles I'd seen onstage: I sang them and showed him and told him the stories that so captivated me. We went through_ _Wicked_ _,_ _Les Mis_ _,_ _Phantom_ _,_ _RENT_ _,_ _Newsies_ _,_ _Once_ _,_ _West Side_ _, you name it. And I loved singing for him. There is nothing more gratifying than hearing someone praise you heavily about something that you love to do!_

 _My throat was dry and parched by the time we slowed. But I was happy. Beyond happy._

 _Sitting there beside Mordred, after everything had been said and told and sang, and holding his hand, I felt thankful and peaceful. There really was something ethereal about holding someone's hand. It was like someone had freeze-framed a video of a firework show in the middle of the grandest explosion. So still and yet chaotic and yet planned. I thought, 'If someone would have just mentioned how beautiful it is to hold someone's hand like this, I would have grown a pair long before now!' The thought made me crack a smile. As if Mordred could sense the poetic turn my thoughts had taken, he turned to me._

 _"There is just one more thing that I still can't quite wrap my head around, Bailey," he said apologetically._

 _"Alright." I swung my leg up onto the bed so I could face him._

 _I was prepared to go through some important historical event or something confusing about Broadway again, so I was utterly floored when Mordred asked in incredulity, "How could you have thought all that time that I still cared for Kara?" I blinked at him. "I still just don't understand. I thought I was making it blatantly obvious. Actually, it was obvious to everyone except you…" Here he grew gentler, seeing that I had grown quiet and that maybe slight mockery was not the way to go. "Was it so hard for you to believe that I could love you over her?"_

 _I sighed. "You_ _know_ _it wasn't just Kara. The other two reasons were much larger in my reasoning." Mordred just continued looking at me. I could see I wasn't going to be able to bypass this one, so I continued: "I'm always so hesitant and uncertain when it comes to such things. I'm not good at reading people. I'm not really good or comfortable with people, period. The intensity of my feelings after knowing you such a short while was_ _scary_ _, Mordred. I can't always trust my instincts. They've been grossly wrong before." Mordred nodded encouragingly when I stopped, and I was bolstered by the fact that he was really trying to understand why._

 _"And Kara was…daunting when I met her. What she said…"_

 _"That was just Kara being stubborn, selfish Kara. She didn't like the way I was looking at you." I just shook my head._

 _"How was I supposed to know that? I couldn't tell you were 'looking' at me. I didn't know what to think, and I certainly wasn't about to try my hand at guessing what was going on behind your gorgeous eyes!" Mordred still looked bemused. I, on the other hand, was becoming frustrated. It might have seemed a little silly to him, but it hadn't and might not ever be clear to me! "You and Kara," I blew air out my nose in frustration, "you_ _fit_ _together. You made sense. At least to me!" Mordred looked like he wanted to interrupt, but I didn't give him the chance. "There was no way I could have known that we would ever make sense…"_

 _"But, Bailey!" he finally butted in, "I made it so obvious that I cared for you! I wasn't trying to hide my feelings from you in the slightest! I…"_

 _"MORDRED!" I persisted. He clamped his mouth shut, more than a little shocked at my volume. "You're…" I gasped in some much-needed air, "You're…radiant!" He looked so confused, I might have laughed had I not been feeling this urgent desperation to make him understand._

 _"Radiant?" Mordred repeated._

 _'Yes! Radiant! You're in a whole other level than anyone I've ever known before. If you don't think that's intimidating…And Kara is_ _so_ _different from me. At the time, I of course didn't know about your past and her cruelties. All I knew was that she had magic like you and had history with you. And she's passionate and willing to die for what she believes in. I don't know if I could ever be that brave." He clearly did not know what to say to all this. "In my time, there are all these issues about self-esteem and how people view themselves, especially regarding teenage girls. I wouldn't change a thing about myself, Mordred, at least on most days. But I'd never want to delude myself into thinking a boy like you could care for me. I didn't want to get hurt. And you're…" Mordred gently took my other hand, so we were sitting across from each other on my bed. "You're radiant!" I repeated insistently, lifting both our clasped hands and dropping them in exasperation. "And I'm…"_

 _"Also radiant." I wanted to keep ranting, to protest his claim, but Mordred ran a hand down my cheek and my brain stopped functioning. "You are stunning, Bailey. Beautiful. Lovely. Lively. All in entirely different ways than Kara was. What you are suggesting is like comparing a beautifully garnished pie and a swatch of purple silk. There is no sense in such a comparison!" I looked down at our hands, my cheeks pink._

 _"I don't always make sense," I said miserably. "I know it's crazy, but I can't help but feel that she'll always be in the back of my mind. I…I don't know how to stop that." I felt a few tears threaten and squeezed my eyes shut. "There's nothing you can do, Mordred!" He let go of my hands and every panicked thought that could ever be conceived by a teenage girl in love jostled for space in my head, where blissfully happy thoughts had sat only moments before. And then, Mordred's gentle hands were on my cheeks, wiping away the tears that were spilling down._

 _"What if I could show you? What if I could prove to you that you're_ _more_ _than radiant to me?" I opened my eyes slowly, and watched as Mordred went over to the door, made sure it was locked, and checked the window-shutters in the same fashion._

 _"What are you…" Before I could finish, he was back, sitting cross-legged across from me on my bed. He gestured for me to mimic his pose, and, after I had done so, held out one of his hands to me, palm facing upward. I wasn't sure what he wanted me to do next._

 _"Make two fists and put them in my hand." This I did, all the while trying to figure out what Mordred was up to. He then closed his eyes, and waved his free hand over our connected hands. He was very faintly muttering; it was too quiet for me to make the words out, though I doubt I would have understood them anyway. I waited for a few breaths._

 _Mordred stopped chanting. His eyes flew open, and their irises were the anticipated shade of gold. In that next moment, the air above our hands began to coalesce. As it did so, Mordred put his other hand over top the others. Instantly, I felt myself pulled down (as strange as it seems) into the misty air before me. For a second, all was foggy and blank and I had no idea what was happening. Then, everything sharpened around me and I found myself in the forest that I had awoken in. But…I was wearing armor, and carrying a sword, and I was running. It was in that instant, before his thoughts began filtering in, that I realized I was experiencing all this as Mordred had. My amazement at this discovery was cut off as I – or, Mordred? – rounded a bend and came face to face with Kara, sprawled on the forest floor before me (us?) This was when things got really trippy: it would seem I was not just seeing things as Mordred had, but I was thinking and feeling what he had as well. And what a whirlwind I was bombarded with as he faced Kara!_

 _It was strange, because she looked slightly different in his eyes. This was obviously because our perceptions of her were vastly different. She looked older, because it had been about five years since Mordred had seen her last. She looked much smaller to him, because Kara was about four inches taller than I was, about average height for a woman, and Mordred was at least four inches taller than her. She was much less intimidating, but more of a loose cannon in his eyes._

 _It was hard to pinpoint exactly what Mordred was thinking, because every thought was ping-ponging around in panic. Shock was the most evident. Well, shock and surprise. There was only slight anger, and even less regret and nostalgia, which was surprising to me (was I thinking thoughts as Bailey while I was thinking thoughts as Mordred? Talk about a headache!) Fear and worry and suspicion drowned out most others though; when he saw that Kara was hurt, Mordred's worry became the most acute. And this was only heightened by the fact that footsteps could be heard not far off. He snapped at her to go, but not fast enough, because Merlin had seen her. I (Bailey) was shocked by the almost electric jolt that accompanied Merlin as he burst into the scene. It almost hurt. Was that simply his magic (which I could also sense in Mordred, presumably like he himself did; it ran beneath his veins like a tingling river) or was that his automatic magical response to Mordred? The air seemed to crackle and snap, and I decided that this was Merlin reacting to what he had just witnessed, because Mordred's panic flew into overdrive. He was about to try to explain, when Arthur and the other knights ran in._

 _His panic was a toxic undercurrent during the following conversation, but Mordred's tight wrap on it impressed me. His claim that he had to work hard to control his emotions and magic, and that he was largely unsuccessful, seemed to me a gross underestimate. This knight had a will of iron!_

 _When the others left, a bit of this façade crumbled. There wasn't really any point in hiding his fear and panic from Merlin anyway. We had both (all three of us?) turned to go, when there came the softest of sounds from the edge of the path. There was no way I would have heard such a slight sound normally, but thanks to Mordred's Druidic training, and Merlin's magically heightened senses, both (all three of us? It was so confusing!) of them (?) had caught it. Mordred and Merlin turned back around. All three of us then watched me step out of the bushes._

 _Mordred's thoughts immediately went through several scenarios in record time. Was I a part of some plan that involved the slaughtered caravan of knights and Kara? Had she lured them here into my grasp? Was I a victim? Was I some sort of magical creature/entity? Was I evil? Good? Sent by Morgana? Or was it all just a coincidence?_

 _He could tell very little by just looking at me; my hood covered my face and my cloak hid most of the rest of me. I was clearly a girl, and looked awfully tiny on the edge of that forest path, but that was about it. This immediately had Mordred extra suspicious. The Lamia tale was one he'd heard often in the guard room. Merlin then asked his question. Mordred made sure to keep his sword up in a defensive position. I took a step forward, and panic flared all around. But, next, I lowered my hood, and everything._

 _Stopped._

 _At least in the mind of Mordred._

 _I (as in the mind of Bailey) was left flabbergasted. A warmth spread throughout my heart. However, I was unsure if Mordred had experienced this, or if I was experiencing it due to what he was showing me. It was a little hard to tell, what with the mind fusion or whatever the hell he had done back in my house._

 _I was clearly myself. But at the same time, I looked like a stranger. It was as if someone had taken it upon themselves to paint a romanticized picture of me, making it…more idealistic, shall we say. My hair was bright and glinting in the dappled sunlight. In contrast to my grey-ish cloak and pale face, it burned like red fire. And it didn't seem frizzy to him! My nose and mouth were tiny and pointed, but feminine, and the light dusting of freckles made Mordred want to smile impulsively. Whimsical is a word that popped up in his head. Mordred didn't register any of the blemishes that I was always self-conscious about, nor the dark circles under my eyes, or anything at all of the sort. He (and myself, as we were sharing head space at the moment) was impressed, and not just by my apparent good looks. I stood with a presence, despite the fact that he could see apprehension on my face. I was determined to get what I needed. It was clear that I would not back down. And that was a bravery all its own._

 _But my eyes were the crowning feature. Large, of a darker shade than Mordred's blue, and not as clear. There were plenty of other colours thrown into the mix. Gold around the pupils, a little grey and green glinting in certain lights. It was the eyes that made Mordred think he wanted to take me back to Camelot and help and protect me in any way he could. It was the eyes that solidified me in Mordred's eyes as…well, as radiant._

 _Of course, when I spoke, that added a whole new dimension. My voice was higher than it sounded to myself, and light. But it carried in that forest, and that too impressed him. My eloquence did that as well._

 _When I said Mordred's name, he flinched. He flinched because bells were tolling in his head and it sounded like something one might utter in a prayer before bed. No one had ever said his name like that, or looked at him the way I was looking at him. All full of hope, and admiration perhaps? Yet also apprehension and confusion and fear. It was a convoluted mixture, to be sure. And, when I mentioned Kara, every fibre inside Mordred rebelled. Mordred had said to compare Kara and I made no sense, yet he had done it, within the first few minutes of us actually meeting…and Kara had fallen short in every category! He knew next to nothing about me, but it was true._

 _He felt fear, great fear, when they had to leave me. Fear that I wouldn't be there when they returned, fear that something may happen to me, fear that perhaps he had just hallucinated this beautiful, radiant girl all his own, though Merlin seemed to see me as well._

 _Learning my name made me more concrete, though it didn't help the racing of his heart or stop the tolling bells. It would, in fact, repeat in his head until they returned later that evening._

 _Mordred's smile, before they left, had made my heart run a marathon._

 _My smile, the first of its kind he had seen, tore his heart from his chest, and placed it in my hands, where it remained with me in that forest as he left, and has remained ever since._

 _What followed next was a series of scenes of Mordred and I together, all from his point of view. Me staring in silent awe in Arthur's throne room, boldly resting my hand on him as he shook in his doorway (which apparently hadn't helped his shaking at all,) gazing out at the city of Camelot with the wind in my hair. Me munching on a strawberry on the picnic blanket, watching the jousting tournament from the stands with wide, worried eyes, entering the main corridor on Merlin's arm in all my finery, and stealing Mordred's breath away. Laughing, blushing, looking away, watching his training, dancing, crying, pleading, standing in the doorway tonight, asking for forgiveness, singing with all my heart and my face lit up with a joyful truth. Seeing all of it through Mordred's eyes. Seeing myself lit up like New York City on New Year's Eve. Bright and brilliant, like all the Broadway billboards that I loved so much._

 _I'd heard and read love described a million different ways over the course of my, albeit short, life. I'd written about it and sung about it and acted it. I'd watched it play out on a screen or stage, completely invested in the characters' feelings. I felt love myself: warm love for my family, joyful love for my friends, proud love for my art and performances, fierce love for everything I loved to do. I'd had crushes, some stronger and longer lasting than others. I was not above worshiping celebrities (I was a fangirl, come on!) All this I'd experienced, and yet, I had never felt something like this. I had never had this – a boy who loved me like I loved him, a boy who loved me with the same wild abandon. A boy who, by showing me his thoughts and feelings in this way, was giving me a greater gift than he could ever know._

 _All this was rolling through my mind, when the images suddenly stopped. For a split second, I was encased in fog again, until I was drawn back out and into my own body. It felt like putting on a pair of new ballet shoes that hadn't quite moulded to my feet yet, utterly different from what I'd been experiencing for the last few minutes. Mordred was silently gazing at me as I readjusted. His eyes were bright._

 _Within a couple minutes, my body was feeling like familiar territory again. However, everything inside me felt buoyed and bouncy. My heart was racing; my breaths were shallow._

" _Do you believe me now?" Mordred whispered. He released my fists, but didn't release my hands, shifting them instead so that he was holding my fingers gently, almost reverently. "You are radiant, Bailey. As much, and even more so, than I must seem to you."_

" _No one could ever be more radiant than you are to me, Mordred." I hadn't been aware of either of us moving, but we must have, because our faces were suddenly much closer to each other than they were before. Mordred smiled at my response._

" _I'm not even going to try and argue with you," he said softly. My gaze tracked down to his lips. I pulled it back up to his eyes, but he spoke again, which drove me to distraction, "because hearing you say so makes me just about as happy as I could ever possibly be anyway."_

" _Just about?" My voice seemed to have dropped in volume of its own accord. "What more could make you happy right now?" Despite Mordred's valiant efforts in the matter, his eyes seemed to be distractedly dropping to my mouth as well. I felt heat and tingles spread throughout my body. My stomach felt like it did when I was about to go on stage: a knot of anticipation of great things, a rush of adrenaline, and nerves on overload. I had an idea about what would fill his happiness up to the top._

" _I have an idea about what could capture that illusive top of happiness," Mordred whispered, echoing my thoughts._

" _Really?" I was barely breathing, but as Mordred was only a couple mere centimeters away, that wasn't really a problem. I was no longer trying to hide the fact that I was staring at his lips. And neither was he._

" _Really. And I'm just going to go ahead and…"_

 _He didn't finish._

 _Instead, he closed the couple inches of space between us. Or…maybe I did. Either way, the distance between us was suddenly eaten up until there was nothing left._

 _Our lips met and my world exploded._

 _Remember the freeze-frame of the firework show? If holding hands was the still, captured image, kissing Mordred was like being the person responsible for setting the fireworks off, or, perhaps like being the firework itself. Everything was white hot. Everything was spinning._

 _It was slow going at first, learning how we fit and moved together. I was by no means 'Little Miss Experience'. But that was ok, because Mordred's lips were soft and his hands were gentle in my hair. Inspired, I ran my fingers through his curls like I'd always wanted, feeling on top of the world. I had no idea what I was doing. But that was alright, because it was_ _Mordred_ _. I didn't have to worry about anything being perfect; he was here, so, by default, everything already_ _was_ _._

 _An immeasurable amount of time later, we broke apart. Unfortunately, air was a biological necessity._

 _I looked into Mordred's eyes, feeling like there was no way I deserved this happiness or the love shining back at me. I didn't deserve him! And then, I remembered how I looked through Mordred's eyes. His eyes, which to me were oh so beautiful, that saw myself as all the things that he was to me. And I realized that he was thinking the same thoughts I was. He was feeling what I was feeling. He felt in awe. He felt that he didn't deserve me. And yet here we were, just two people, who, somehow, and across decades of time and space, had found each other. Thanks to some unknown force out there, we were together, and in the grand scheme of things, that was all that really mattered. We mattered to each other, despite the difficulties of the opposite party in believing that that could be true._

 _These thoughts made me incredibly happy. A giddy smile broke out on my face, which was soon matched by Mordred's own beaming back at me. Him smiling simply for no other reason than the fact that I was widened my grin even further. Then, I had to shake my head._

 _At Mordred's quizzical expression, I said, "I just never would have imagined…" I continued to shake my head, too bemused to continue. "Three months ago," I began again, "I was the lonely girl lying awake at night dreaming about…well, about a lot of things. Things that seemed to me about as far away as…as Pluto!"_

" _As what?"_

" _Never mind. Future reference." I then placed my hand on Mordred's chest, right above where his heart was. I felt reverent in touching him; I still couldn't believe that the freedom of such an action was now mine to distribute. It was unreal. "Months ago –_ _weeks_ _ago – I was the girl who hadn't even ever held hands with anyone. And now," I moved my hand up to caress his cheek, "thanks to you, I know I am loved and wanted." Mordred beamed, and pulled me in for a hug._

" _You know that I love you beyond all reason, right?" he said into my hair. I nodded, and melted into the strength of his arms enveloping me._

 _And then, with my throat suddenly a little tight with tears, I confessed (into his shoulder) "I used to think, in my darkest, loneliest moments, that I might die alone. I thought…I thought I might never kiss anyone. It was hard, sometimes, to have faith." My eyes were itchy with the tears that lurked behind them. I tried to laugh a little laugh, but it sounded more like a little sob._

 _Mordred then drew back from our embrace. He stared at me silently for a moment. I had never seen such…awe and adoration in anyone's eyes as they had looked at me before, and I was once again reminded of how I appeared to him. Shining. Perfect._

" _Well," Mordred stated, very matter-of-factly, "it seems I must take it upon myself to dispel such thoughts." He kissed my forehead. "I will kiss away anything that ever made you think that." He kissed my cheek. "I will kiss you with everything I have," he kissed my neck, "so that no doubt about my love could ever possibly remain." He kissed his way down to my shoulder and subsequently down my arm, making promises in the same vein as the previous ones. I closed my eyes, losing myself to the feeling of complete and utter belonging. "This is what it feels like to_ _be_ _radiant!" my inner voice cried._

" _Even if it takes a lifetime of kissing you senseless," Mordred declared, "I will ensure that such thoughts never come close to haunting you ever again!" At that, I opened my eyes and wrapped my arms around his neck._

 _Completely overcome, I sang (in the tune from_ _Phantom_ _, in case you didn't know,) "Mordred…I lo-o-ove you…**" Instead of responding, he kissed me again, more insistent and needier than earlier. His arms wrapped around my waist and held me close and tight. My hands were in his hair again; I couldn't get enough of it! (and I was feeling much more confident this time around!)_

 _As we kissed, Mordred apparently decided that holding me where I was pressed flush against him wasn't close enough. Without breaking the kiss, he slipped his left arm under my knees, and with incredible grace, swooped me up onto his lap and held me in the stereotypical princess-carry fashion. I didn't miss a beat._

 _We kissed until our lips were numb. And even then, he held me and rocked back and forth, and I couldn't resist pressing my swollen lips against the skin in the crook of his neck where my head rested._

 _I could have fallen asleep like that, safely tucked away in Mordred's arms. It was certainly late enough; it was most likely so late it was early. I was tired, something I was just noticing now that all the adrenaline was leaving, but neither of us wanted to say goodnight. Not after everything that had just happened! After all that had transpired, simply biding Mordred goodnight did not seem a fitting end. The night had been monumental, to say the least. Granted, my conversation with Kilgharrah seemed like eons ago, and it was a struggle not to lose myself to the warmth that was me snuggled up against Mordred. But, I knew that the minute he left, I would lie awake, replaying everything over in my mind and missing him desperately until I saw him again. So, I tried to fight the sleep pressing at my eyelids._

* * *

 _I was jostled, ever so slightly, and my eyes flew open. Mordred had lifted me off his lap and laid me down on my bed. As I was an exceedingly light sleeper (and pretty particular about the conditions needed for me to sleep) this woke me, despite Mordred's tender gentleness._

" _What are you doing?" I asked, voice heavy with almost-sleep. Mordred finished putting his boots on, then turned back around and kissed my forehead._

" _I'm going back to the castle. You're exhausted. I'm exhausted. I have training in the morning for the first time in weeks, and the sun will be up before we know it." I half-sat up, propped by my elbow._

" _But…I don't want you to go." It might have been selfish and childish, but I bat my eyelashes and pouted. Mordred's already soft eyes softened, and he grinned a lovely grin._

" _I don't want to leave. I don't want to leave you. But," he sat back down and put an arm on my back, "I have to get some sleep. You have to get some sleep. You were asleep in my arms!"_

" _I wasn't asleep!" I protested. "Not…exactly!"_

" _I repeat: I need to sleep. I've been on the road and away from home for weeks." I felt guilty at that and fell silent. I watched him stand. Even being that far away from him felt like there was too much empty space between us. God. This was insane. I was clearly insanely in love! I thought, 'These violent delights have violent ends***.' With any luck, however, our relationship wouldn't echo Romeo and Juliet's in the slightest._

 _Mordred sighed. "I'm sorry, Bailey. I don't…" he ran a hand through his hair, "Gah! Even standing here, I…just want to be there beside you…it feels like I'm too far from you. Across this little expanse of space…But I have to go!" The room was silent for a minute._

 _I heard myself say, "Or…you could…sleep here…"_

 _Mordred stopped. His eyes were wide and alarmed, and his ears were pink. I heard myself then rush to add, "It would just be us…sleeping together. Not…anything more. I'm not…" Mordred's blush was fading, and he had a faint smile on his lips, but my blush was increasing with each thought. "I wouldn't ever suggest…I won't be ready for 'anything more' for a long,_ _long_ _time. I just…there's nothing wrong with what I'm suggesting! Just," I sat straight up, cross-legged on the bed, and looked at him with pleading, loving eyes, "just please don't…go."_

 _Mordred stared at me. I felt the seconds tick by alarmingly slowly. He held out his hand to me. I took it, not really understanding. He pulled me off the bed, to my feet, and into another, tight, needy hug. What a relief - clinginess went both ways!_

" _I will stay," he whispered. "I will stay."_

 _I went back behind the screens to hang my dressing gown up and prepare for bed. I was slightly nervous. By modern-day standards, I was still quite covered. My white night-dress touched just above my ankles, and I was still wearing some light under-things under it. Compared to what I slept in back home, or to what I just normally went out in, this was overkill. There was no reason not to feel modest or to feel exposed. But I'd been wearing layers upon layers, corsets and several skirts and everything in between, for months. So, I was a little anxious._

" _Don't put your hair up!" Mordred called._

" _I won't!" I bit my lip, wired and shivery. And happy._

 _I came back out. And stopped._

 _Mordred was sitting on the edge of my bed. He had taken his boots back off. And his shirt._

" _Electricity/sparks inside of me/and I'm free…****" The refrain from the_ _Billy Elliot_ _song had always represented the fire of artistic drive and of Broadway dreams for me. But now, it had been given a new meaning._

 _He was lean, but surprisingly muscular. Now, I was as appreciative of pictures of shirtless men as the next straight teen girl. And I had no shame in admitting I had an album on my phone reserved for attractive men, of which a good portion were without their shirts. But I'd never seen one I cared about (and actually_ _knew_ _) without his shirt. I'd never been in a position like this. I'd never had_ _this_ _._

" _All that training has done marvellous things for you!" I exclaimed. Mordred blushed, and I felt a rush of confidence because I could make him blush just as easily as he could make me. So, with an appreciative smile, I went over to sit beside him. I put my arm around his toned shoulders, and laid my head on the right one. I noticed his triskelion tattoo on the right side of his chest, and, still feeling uncharacteristically bold, I traced my finger over it._

" _Mordred. You are already radiant with your shirt on. But I feel compelled to tell you that now your radiance is a blinding. It isn't really fair to do this to me. Because now I'll want you to walk around shirtless all the time!" Mordred laughed and kissed my hair._ " _I mean it!" I insisted, still tracing his tattoo like I was drawing another one right over top of it. "You really shouldn't do that to a girl, Mordred." We were both in stitches now. "It just isn't chivalrous!" I gasped out._

" _Alright then," Mordred said, swallowing his laughter to speak, though his eyes still shone with mirth. "I'll try and make up for it by insisting we go to bed now so we are at least semi-functional in the morning._ _And_ _," he added, as he settled down on the side of the bed closest to the wall, "I'll even prove I'm still chivalrous by letting you sleep in my arms, even though they will go numb for sure."_

" _Oh, you'll let me? Yes, you're a real white knight!" Mordred smirked as I curled up in his arms despite my words. He held me even closer, then blew out the last candle we'd had burning. All was quiet and dark suddenly. And then I'm afraid I disturbed it._

" _Mordred?" I asked softly. "You really don't mind that I'll numb your arms, do you?" He sighed into my hair, but it was theatrical again._

" _I suppose not. If my good-boy reputation is at stake."_

" _You're forgetting that we've previously discussed how morally corrupt you knights can be." He was silent, thinking._

" _Ah yes. We have. Well, then there's no need to worry about my reputation, is there? Bailey," his tone grew more serious, "what I have in my arms is the most precious thing in the world to me. And if I get to hold you tight in my arms and fall asleep with you, then I am the luckiest morally corrupt knight there is!" I turned around in his arms, even though I couldn't see his face. Knowing it was there was perfect enough for me._

" _You're not corrupt," I whispered. "You are…everything. Everything perfect and light and good. You make me feel like I'm flying, and that I'll never, ever fall because you are there. And if I get to fall asleep with your admittedly impressive arms around me, then I am the luckiest time-jumper there is!" I kissed him tenderly, and then added, "I like that name._ _Time-jumper_ _. It makes me feel…amazing." It was Mordred's turn to kiss me with sleepy lips._

" _You are amazing." I turned back around, and finally closed my eyes._

" _I love you, Mordred."_

" _I love you too. Goodnight." I yawned, and his arms tightened around me a fraction more._

" _Goodnight," I murmured. His goodnight echoed in my head as I fell asleep. For the first time since I could remember, I didn't fall asleep dreaming about far off lands. I didn't visualize myself standing on center stage under a spotlight, singing my heart out. I didn't drift off imagining some boy's arms wrapped lovingly around me. I had those arms really wrapped around me now, and the steady breaths of the boy I loved sleeping beside me._

 _No, I didn't dream of anything that night. For a moment, I had everything that I could have and previously had dreamed. And I fell asleep securely knowing that._

* * *

 ***"Maria" - West Side Story, Act 1, Scene 5 (ish - I don't exactly remember).**

 ****Line from "All I Ask of You" + reprises from The Phantom of the Opera. Actually: "Christine, I love you." The added 'o's are for note changes.**

 *****Line from Romeo and Juliet, Act 2, Scene 6.**

 ******"Electricity" - Billy Elliot the Musical, Act 2, Scene 8 (ish - doing my best here straight from memory!)**

 **Phew! Sorry, that was a lot of quoting. ThAT accurately portrays how I - *cough* how _Bailey_ thinks sometimes. It also struck me as the easiest and clearest way to get her exact train of thought across to you readers.**

 **This was a really fast update, but I was just so excited for you guys to get to this part. I hope it was as much fun to read as it was to write. Also sorry for the longevity. And, as always, THANKS!**


	13. Time-Jumping

**I'm so sorry. In advance.**

* * *

 _12_

 _Time-Jumping_

 _I think I knew I was_ _back_ _even before I had opened my eyes. The body just has ways of knowing these things. Everything around me felt different._ _I_ _felt different, though I wasn't really conscious yet. There was a very subtle…change, I suppose, a differentiation you wouldn't notice unless you'd been experiencing the exact opposite for an extended period of time (say, almost three months.) Wherever I'd been, Albion, Camelot, call it what you will, had felt different. Different weight to the body, different air, different kind of living, stuff I hadn't realized was so vastly different until I found myself back in the twenty-first century. The changes were so widely estranged that I believe they were what woke me up._

 _It happened like this;_

 _I was asleep, and then, very gradually, in that kind of doze where you are not quite sure if you're dreaming or awake. I thought I was dreaming at first, and I stayed asleep. But then, all the disparities and deviations sunk in. It was not unlike stepping off a plane in a new part of the world. My body felt very heavy, but not the kind of heaviness from sleep. The air was changed too; clean, but not the fresh air that blew through Camelot constantly. The possibility of what might have happened began to sink in. But I elected to ignore it. I rolled over, only to feel the satiny sheets I was wrapped in, and the pillow under my head._ _That_ _was when I bolted upright and stared around me in a full-blown panic._

 _I was in an unfamiliar room (though it was clear I had returned from wherever I'd been). All I could hear was my heartbeat racing ferociously in my ears. I didn't move. I couldn't even breath. And then details sunk in, details like my first Webkinz Oliver lying on the floor where she'd clearly fallen out of my arms (so what if I still slept with a stuffy on occasion and I was seventeen? There were more pressing matters at hand people!) I also noticed my suitcase sitting open on the stand, where I'd left it after getting ready for bed that long-ago day my family and I had arrived in England. I was back in the hotel room I had fallen asleep in. Ok…_

 _I took a deep breath. On that breath, I felt the push of every emotion I could and would feel at my return, but I only let myself feel one: confusion. I looked back at Oliver on the ground, having decided that, now I was able to move, I was going to pick her up, when my gaze happened to fall on the bedside clock._ _ **10:32 P.M**_ _, it blinked back at me in square, green numbers. Then, below the time, I read '_ _ **Sunday, July 17, 2017.**_ _' July 17_ _th_ _? That was the day I'd arrived in London. But how was that possible? I'd been gone for almost three months! All the emotional questions that I wasn't letting myself ask pressed again, along with an idea of what was going on. It was an idea I hadn't entertained since Merlin and Mordred had returned to me in the forest when I woke up there. I bit my lip. "Deal with it later," my inner voice said, "because you will certainly not like the results!" I took another deep breath and held it for a split second. After I'd let it out with a whoosh of slightly calmer air, a slightly calmer me swung my legs around to the side of the bed and stood up. I was going to check on some things, but not before I scooped Oliver up and hugged her close to my chest._

 _The floor was cold on my feet as I tip-toed around the furniture in my little room, but the fuzzy pajama bottoms I was wearing helped (I was back in pants!) There were two doors, one beside the bed and me, and one in front of the bed. If I remembered correctly from my sleepy exploration of the place before my adventures, then the door closest to me lead to a bathroom that my brother and I would share, and the other lead to my mom's room. Slowly, I opened the door behind me, and found I was right about the bathroom. I crept through it, and opened the door on the other side even more cautiously than I had the one before._

 _I was standing close to Colin's bed, and I could just make out his face in the dark, his pillows strewn everywhere like they always were when he slept. I felt a strange feeling then, a happy turmoil inside of me. I was back, and there would be no chaos waiting, no questions or explanations or on-going searches. I still had my whole summer ahead of me, a whole two weeks here in an amazing city. I had known it when I'd woken up, but the relief and sadness that I felt then was an acute confirmation._

 _I stood there for a few minutes, my chest feeling very tight. My brother looked disarmingly fragile when he was asleep, and it always made me a little sad, because he was no longer my baby brother (he was over six fricken feet tall!) but he could still look like it. Right then, I was exceedingly envious of his peaceful sleep, and I had to fight the selfish urge to wake him up. Two more breaths I stood there, and then I left, squeezing Oliver even tighter than before._

 _I returned to my room and opened my mom's door. I stayed right in the doorway; my mom was a heavy sleeper, so it wasn't because I was afraid of waking her up - I was not sure what I would have done if I had gotten close enough to see her like I'd seen Colin. She let out one of her infamous snores. I shifted my weight, feeling like I was intruding, but I couldn't make myself leave. Then, I thought back to how many times I'd done the same back home._

 _~"Mommy, I had a nightmare…"~_

 _~"Something's making a weird noise and I don't know what it is…"~_

 _~"I don't feel good, Mommy…"~_

 _~"I can't sleep…"~_

 _She snored again._

" _Mommy," I whispered. But what would I have said?_

 _~"I had a dream, Mom, part dream, part nightmare."~_

 _~"I'm scared, Mom."~_

 _~"Mom, I just had an adventure. You're not going to believe me when I tell you, but it's true, every word!"~_

 _~"I fell in love, Mom, for real, with a boy who loved me too, and who was most definitely not a part of a dream…"~_

" _I'm back, Mommy," I breathed, out loud this time. "I'm back, and all I want to do is go back_ _there_ _…"_

 _I didn't run from the room, not exactly. I was much quieter. However, with a speed necessary to make sure I didn't fall apart where my mom would most certainly hear, I was back on my bed. Having substituted Oliver out for a pillow (because a pillow was much bigger than my alley cat stuffy and bigger felt better to hug in this case) I burrowed my face into it and rocked back and forth._

" _It can't have been a dream!" I hissed. "It just couldn't have been! Dreams aren't that long…and if they are, you certainly don't remember all of them! But I do…" I trailed off; I'd been getting louder. I whispered hoarsely, now that I was talking out loud like a crazy person, "I remember all of it! Every single day! I remember…" I swallowed and quieted, because I didn't have the strength to say it._

" _Him," my inner voice cooed. "You remember him and you miss him. But what if he was just a figment of your imagination?" I shook my head. "You make up ideal guys all the time," it pressed. "Why would he be any different?"_

 _Why indeed._

" _These violent delights have violent ends*" I said, my voice raw and pained. The irony was not lost on me. I'd been thinking about how hard it would be for us just to be separated to go about our daily routines in Camelot when I'd last quoted the Bard. It hadn't ever occurred to me what I might be feeling if I returned home, because, for the one of very few moments when I'd been there, I hadn't been thinking about my original home. I hadn't been thinking about anything else but him._

 _Violent indeed._

 _All the emotions I'd been repressing came welling up, spilling over like a river over a dam, and at the forefront of the rush was a name. My heartbeat was echoing it. 'Mor-dred, Mor-dred, Mor-dred.' My body was reverberating with it. 'Mor-dred, Mor-dred, Mor-dred.' I bent over the pillow, squeezing my eyes shut, knotting my hands in my hair, trying anything to help, though I suspected very little would._

 _Eventually, the pressure just became too much._

" _Mordred," I whispered into my pillow. It didn't lessen. If it did anything at all, my whisper only increased the force. So, I said it again, a little louder. "Mordred." A tear slipped out on the next time, turning it into a quiet sob, which got louder every time I wailed. "Mordred!" "Mordred!" "MORDRED!"_

 _I was eventually screaming his name into my pillow and crying, both quite hysterically. Part of me was hoping someone would wake up and come ask what was wrong, but nobody did. Apparently, my pillow was a good muffler. And everything was wrong, so it wasn't like having the family I'd returned to inquire about it would help either._

 _~"What's wrong, Bailey?!"_

" _Oh, nothing. I've just returned from Camelot, and I'm so glad to see you guys, and to be back to the familiar, but you see, I can't ever go back to the familiar, because my every thought will be permeated by the Druid knight I fell in love with, but now I don't even know if what happened to me was real or if I just dreamt it, and even if I didn't, I have no way of knowing if I'll ever wake up there again or…"~_

 _Good God, I felt like I was going insane! Then, I decided that I wasn't, because crazy people don't worry about being crazy. Then, I had to laugh at that. And then I cried some more._

 _At some point, I leaned back down on my bed, keeping Oliver and the pillow I'd been holding close, and cried there, until I finally cried myself to sleep._

 _And what a relief the close-knit blackness was._

* * *

 _I'd never been one of those people who had trouble remembering where they were if they woke up in an unfamiliar place. So, when I awoke the next morning, I was awake, and I remembered exactly what I was to face that day._

 _I felt sad, a heavy pain present in my heart that only came from longing for something you knew you couldn't have with any immediacy or regularity, but I was also quite excited to see my mom and brother again. There was guilt too, about being so devastatingly sad that I had returned, but in the bright sunlight that was peeking out from behind the blinds of the windows, it was easy to dismiss._

 _I stood up, ran my hand through my hair, and just held it there for a split second, just for something to do. My eyes were all bleary and scratchy and probably swollen from all the tears the night before, so I went to the bathroom to wash my face. Alright, real talk: to have indoor plumbing and running water again was a happy balm to my sadness. I smiled at myself in the mirror. And I felt like I actually, almost, meant it._

 _"Morning!" Mom chirped as I opened the door._

 _"Morning." I didn't even really look at her. I just made a beeline for her arms and a hug that made my heart expand ensued (this wasn't strange; I'm a big hugger. But it still felt amazing!) I felt tears tickle the back of my throat at her happy smile, but I swallowed and then they were gone._

 _Colin was situated in his corner of the couch. And I say 'his' because good luck trying to sit in any of his designated spots once they are designated. All of his necessary computer stuff and chords were always piled up and in the way and I pitied the fool who actually tried to sit there and had to deal with my brother's wrath._

 _He was engrossed in some violent Netflix show, but I tapped his shoulder to get his attention._

 _"Can I have a hug?" I asked when he looked up at me. My usual odds were probably something like 65-35% of him replying with an affirmative, but I got lucky that morning. I'm fairly certain, had he turned me down like he sometimes did, I would have broken down not even five minutes into the day. It was clear I would have to acquire some thick skin for the up-coming weeks._

 _I wasn't really sure what to do after that. On mornings back in Camelot, I'd have had to make breakfast and get ready pretty quickly, but here in England, I was on vacation. Summer vacation, no less. So, I grabbed one of the many books I'd brought with me and settled down beside Colin. I had trouble focusing on the story though. The words kept running together, and my mind would wander off. Or, I'd flip the page and realize I had no idea what I'd just read. Every time I saw the word 'more,' or something along those lines, my heart would beat painfully in my chest._

 _I eventually sighed, closed the book, and leaned my head against the window pane beside me. It was already late into the morning, so the streets were bustling with people. It wasn't shocking or jarring to see a modern-day metropolis, a city so different from the one I'd been living in for the past few months, nor was it odd or new. It felt normal. And that scared and saddened me, because what if all of Camelot had been a dream? I was frightened of that. I was terrified that my vivid memories and feelings of that fabled city, be it a dream or not, would eventually fade, and that I would go back to feeling normal; however, gazing out at the city that I'd dreamed of returning to for years and now feeling so distanced from all its awesomeness, for a split second, I would have given anything just to go back to the way I'd been before._

 _Staring out the window was just making me melancholier, so I looked down at my book and ran my fingers absently across the title. I was thinking about trying it again (because it was quite a well-written book) when another thought plopped in and made itself at home. If Camelot and all the world created for the_ _Merlin_ _TV show existed, were there other worlds like it? Was there a town called Storybrooke teeming with citizens from the Enchanted Forest? Did an attractive, high-functioning sociopath act as a private detective in an alternate London, and did Percy Jackson defend a version of Manhattan from a Titan Lord? Were Baz and Simon dealing with Simon's wings and tail in a flat in a London like the one I was in this very moment? Everything inside me wanted that to be true so very much! And then another thought occurred to me, that this idea didn't have to just pertain to TV and film and books. It occurred to me that there was another art form out there, one that I loved with all my heart. This aforementioned organ began to race as I contemplated what that could mean:_

 _What if Elphaba and Fiyero were living out their fugitive lives in the Badlands? Were all the members of the Amis fighting for their lives on the barricade? The Phantom, the Guy from_ _Once_ _, and Quasimodo all dealing with unhappy endings, while Roger and Mimi lived another day and Jack didn't run off to Santa Fe… Billy was dancing happily, and Maria was mourning Tony…I dug my nails into my palms. It was a huge thought. It was a crazy thought. I may have been crazy for even thinking that what had happened to me in Camelot was anything more than a wild, wishful dream, and there was most-likely no way I was ever going to find out one way or another. But if there was even the slightest chance…_

 _"Honey?" Wordlessly, I looked up. My mom was looking at me with a slight touch of concern._

 _"Yeah?" I asked._

 _"You just looked really freaked out and far away there for a second…are you ok?" Sigh. The million-dollar question._

 _I said the most truthful thing I could say given the situation. "I honestly don't know what I'm feeling, Mom. I'm just feeling weird." She twisted her mouth in a mix of sympathy and annoyance._

 _"I can get that. We're all screwed up," - understatement of the century - "time-wise, and it was an incredibly long day yesterday." Col and I both nodded. "I bet you're starving. Do you want to get ready and go grab some breakfast?" Of all the many mind-blowing, painful, happy, and relieved thoughts I'd had since I'd been back, not one had been about food. But, after my mother mentioned it, I realized that I was in fact starving. I nodded in response to her inquiry, and got up, because I took the longest to get ready (and I now had all my various creams and products at my disposal once again!)_

 _Half-an-hour later, the three of us made our way down to the breakfast buffet. We were lucky that it was the weekend, because they had a special section of the buffet where one could simply tell the chef what you wanted on it, and she would whip you up an omelette. This was where I headed, because of the yawning hole in my stomach that was growing larger every minute. There was a bit of a line, but it was only three people long._

 _As I stood there, thinking about what fillings I wanted and watching the chef flip someone else's breakfast, the strangest thing happened. It was only because all these thoughts were second nature back in Camelot that it took me a couple minutes to register what was happening. I could_ _understand_ _how the cook was going about making these omelettes. Now, that might sound completely unremarkable to all you capable people out there, but I was not a confident cook. Before I had woken up to Mordred and Kara running in the forest, I'd had only the basic understanding of how to make some rudimentary things. I would have never been able to look at a hotel chef and know how they were cooking these meals. And there is a big difference between understanding how something is done and actually doing it, but it was more than that: the egg would sizzle in a different way, and I knew that the omelette needed to be flipped, right before the chef flipped it herself! It was bizarre. I suspected if I were stationed behind the stove, I would have been able to make myself the omelette that I wanted. It may not have been as good as what this lady could conjure up, but it would have been edible._

 _I spent the rest of my time in line trying to puzzle out what this newfound knowledge of cooking could mean, and had to cross my arms and bite my lip to keep from jumping up and down when I figured it out. As it was, I rocked onto the balls of my feet and balanced there (dancer training to thank for that) because staying still was not an option._

 _Mom and Colin did a double-take at my beaming face when I returned to our table._

 _"Food really does work miracles!" Mom exclaimed with a teasing smile. I smiled back, only because I was too happy to be offended. If they only knew… Even as I tucked into my omelette that I could have cooked myself, I couldn't help but grin, because there was just one thought echoing through my mind: 'It wasn't a dream!'_

* * *

 _And then, before I had even blinked, our time in London was done, and I was staring out the window at Gatwick Airport, waiting for my plane home._

 _It was, admittedly, good to be back. Good to be back to normal worries, to running water and electricity and heating and vehicles, to my family, the internet, all my music, TV, my books, to comfy couches and mattresses and warm blankets…it was all so good. In many ways, it felt like I had never left._

 _But I had. I had been in Camelot for almost three months, and that helped me enjoy my vacation in such a versatile and historic city. At least, it had been helping, until now._

 _"Honey?" I dragged my gaze away from the tarmac to face my mother. It took a second for me to focus. "You look exhausted…you're sure you don't want anything?" I shook my head. "Not even a water?" she pressed._

 _"No thanks." At my bleak tone, Mom stared at me for a few more seconds before rejoining my brother on the comfy seats. Blearily, I scrubbed my palms across my tired eyes and groaned. I'm sure I did look a mess, but that could hardly be helped._

 _For all my relief at my homecoming, there was an equal amount of distress. I missed my home, the marketplace, the city. I missed Elaine, and the kids I was helping her to care for. I missed Gwen and Arthur and the knights. I missed the wise physician and the cheeky manservant. And, I missed_ _him_ _. I missed him so much it was hard to breathe at times!_

 _The nights were the worst, filled with longing and loneliness and darkness. All the good things of the day were hard to recollect and reconcile during the wee hours of the witching times. In short, it sucked. A lot. I cried myself to sleep oftentimes, because it was difficult to hide all the tumultuous, conflicting feelings during the day. Desperately, I wished I could tell someone - my mom, my brother, one of my friends, anyone really – about my knight. The part about being in love was so amazing; it was like carrying a light inside, and it was the kind of joyous light that begged to be shared. But it was also like carrying a torch, a torch held too close to my heart. All heat and burning and searing. To talk to someone would be to relieve some of the unending pressure, but I couldn't. They wouldn't believe me. They would think I was insane! To have people laugh, or to have someone write off these feelings with a dismissive wave of an adult hand…well, I think that would have been worse than crying alone in silence._

 _When I couldn't sleep because my thoughts fell down this shadowy, tree-lined trail of thought, there was only one thing that helped bring me back to a happier stream of consciousness, and it was this thought: 'Mordred loves you. He's real and he loves you.' My belly would warm and I'd curl into a ball and smile pathetically until I could move again. Then, I would haul myself off the bed and practice the steps of the various dances Mordred and I had partaken in. If I closed my eyes, I could just make out the strains of the music. Then, whirling around in my room, eyes closed and humming, I would waltz. It helped immensely. It was even easier to pretend his arms were around me than it was to hear the music. It was more natural than the steps themselves._

 _I smiled slightly at the memory of that night at the ball, even though the following fight still made me wince at my own stupidity. The smile didn't – couldn't – last long in the face of my crushing exhaustion though. No, I hadn't been sleeping well at all since I'd returned, but the last couple days, as we were preparing to take our leave of London, had been the worst. Questions plagued me - would I ever return to Camelot and Mordred? Were there other worlds I might wake up in someday? Was Mordred thinking about me? – perpetually, making it impossible for me to rest. My want for any kind of answers was quickly becoming a physical need. But there was one thought, one question above all that I kept coming back to with terror in my heart: What if I was only able to visit Camelot while here, in England, a portion of the land that Arthur had supposedly ruled over? I had no way of knowing the answer, unless I returned to Camelot once back on Canadian soil. And if I never did…This was what made it impossible to sleep: the possibility that I wouldn't ever return. I'd been wondering about whether it was due to my presence on English soil that I had time-jumped to Arthurian times since I'd returned to the 21_ _st_ _Century, but, don't ask me how, I had managed to retain the ever-illusive figment of hope. Hope that I might return. Hope that it didn't matter whose soil I was on. Hope that I wouldn't live out my days going crazy with this yearning that was already pushing me there._

 _But I couldn't fight or hide my fear as the day of our departure had drawn nearer. Mom and Colin had just tacked it down to a wish to remain in London, but they knew nothing._

 _I rested my forehead against the likely-filthy airport window, somehow both a girl of ash with the pain of lava flowing through her veins. Feeling tears threaten, I wrapped my arms around my torso and squeezed. This did nothing to help or stay the tides, especially as I saw the plane destined to take me to my real home pulling up to our gate._

" _Oh God!" I gasped out under my breath, tears overflowing and building up, making the world around run in a wash of colour. I kept my gaze fixed on the dreaded plane. If I could have one wish, it would have been the power to bore through the wings of the plane with my eyes. Or to have all answers to my various questions…Or just the power to control my time-jumping myself._

 _The plane looked distorted through my tears. Even as I watched, it brightened considerably, rendering the shape indistinguishable. I thought that was a little odd, so, using my sleeve, I wiped the tears away. Then I blinked once, twice, three times. The plane still seemed to glow with a bright light._ _Concerned, I rubbed the heels of my palms into my eyes, thinking that it must be a result of sleep deprivation. That did nothing to help, however, and, as I gazed wildly around, I realized it wasn't the plane that had been getting brighter, it was the light around me itself._

 _I was really weirded out, and tried to see if anyone else was seeing what I was seeing (was I having some sort of health malfunction?) but it was so bright I could only make out shapes around me now, and it was growing brighter still. I tried to speak, but no sound came. By and by, it grew so bright that all I saw was white, white all around, like I'd landed in a snow drift without the cold bit. I was frightened, and was sure I was dying. But then, grey fuzzy lines appeared and striped themselves across my vision. As I watched, they solidified into shapes, shapes I knew. I stood still, afraid to move until I could see, afraid to hope…_

 _Then I looked down, and tears again welled. I was in a violetty-pink dress, with embroidered lilacs along the hem and bodice, and a dove-grey cloak that made me feel like the sky at dusk. The trees and everything else around me took full shape. There was a fresh breeze that twirled my hair about and a sudden lightness in my chest. At the green and earthy scent that hit my nose, I almost squealed. As it was, I did a quiet bell (a dance move) even underneath all my medieval skirts. I had returned!_

* * *

 ***Same line from Romeo and Juliet, Act 2, Scene 6**

 **Only a handful of chapters left to go guys! That's a little crazy to believe. Sorry for the return of the angst. Or not, if you enjoy it like I enjoy writing it XD! Thank you all, a million times over, for reading this, and especially to Frostkiss for the favourite and the follow. *blows kisses at everyone who reads and continues to read this***


	14. The Plot Thickens

_13_

 _The Plot Thickens_

 _I breathed in the misty air, joy pushing all thoughts about the fact that I'd come here while awake aside for the time being. There was only one thought, one person who mattered right now. And I had to find him._

 _I'd materialized in the same place I had last time. That meant the path wasn't far. I could follow it to Camelot. To him._

 _Picking my skirts up, I trekked forward and found the path in no time. I headed off towards the city, but I stayed in the trees, off to the side, making sure I could still see the path. I was fairly close to the protective walls of Camelot and all the people I knew there, but one couldn't be too careful, especially as I was a girl all alone in the forest, without my handy sorcerer/knight._

 _Still, it was a lovely day to be out, and I was too elated at my return to be worried. I picked my way through the underbrush cautiously, but full to the brim with excitement as well. While I walked, I wondered a great many things (as one was wont to do at times such as these). Had time stopped here as well? Had Mordred awoken just minutes ago in my house (and bed!) without me there and put two and two together? Was he worried? Did he miss me? What if, when I had left, everything I'd changed had suddenly reversed? Thinking like that was making my head hurt, so I tried to focus on the fact that I was back and leave other worries alone. It didn't work very well, but whatever._

 _I had been walking for a while, and was beginning to get tired, when I thought I saw something through the trees over to my left. Instantly, I froze. Competing thoughts whirred in my head, about bandits or knights or an animal of some sort. I waited. Nothing happened. And then, not far into the trees, it came again. It was just a flash, sunlight glinting off something metal. And metal meant something human._

 _Afraid, I crouched down where I stood, hoping that I hadn't stumbled across someone up to no good. I wasn't cut out to deal with that kind of thing! I waited and held my breath. The flash showed itself again, and this time I thought I saw some red fabric as well. Red fabric…from a cloak? And a flash from metal, a sword or chainmail, perhaps? It was too much to hope for, and yes, continuing to hope made me foolish. But, as I couldn't quell my hope, I moved forward carefully, still in a crouch._

 _As I drew closer, things came into focus. It was definitely human, a man. I dared to get closer still, and could make out the Pendragon crest on the cloak. A knight! One of Arthur's knights for sure. I stood up, a little light-headed from barely breathing. I was still a few meters away, but the curly, black-haired head in front of me was unmistakable._

 _I broke into a run._

 _And I_ _don't_ _run._

 _Ever._

 _I made a lot of noise, running in a heavy dress in silly shoes and in a forest. I must have, because Mordred turned at the next instant. Or maybe, something told him to turn around, something inside him that just knew; that deep knowing you could sometimes get in your gut and see using your soul. Either way, turn he did, and he saw me barrelling through the trees to him. He dropped his sword, something I'd never seen him do, and broke into a run, unsteady and hasty and eager. We rammed into each other within the next few seconds, and it might have hurt, but I didn't notice. I was too busy holding,_ _squeezing_ _, him tightly in my arms. My cheek was pressed against his chest, and the metal of his chainmail bit into my skin, on my arms too, but I didn't care. The pain meant he was real and I was here and now._

 _It was an eternity before Mordred moved. He loosened his tight hold on me and drew back a fraction. Just enough for us to get our fill of the other's gaze. His eyes roved my face, leaving a trail of sparks in their wake. His hands moved up to my cheeks and held me there, solid and warm. Then he leaned his forehead against mine, still staring with blazing eyes._

 _"You're back," he rasped._

 _I still wasn't breathing. "I'm back…" Apparently having had enough of the words, Mordred hefted me up to kiss me with burning lips. He held me in strong, loving arms. My hands were all over his face, in his hair, on his shoulders. It felt like I was slowly dissolving from the center of my stomach and outwards, like a mint. And I could finally bid farewell to the ghosts of our last kisses that had haunted me for the past weeks. I no longer needed to live on those last remnants. He was here. We were creating new ghosts to haunt in the wake of the old._

 _I eventually had to draw back because my brain was turning to putty, and not just from lack of oxygen. "Mordred," I breathed, as I sucked in a gasp of air._

 _He smiled. "Bailey." A chill raced up my arms, welcome and full of everything I'd been missing. In his voice I heard what I'd been feeling these past days, all the bottled up emotions and doubts, all the keeping everything inside. Rawness and vulnerability. Lord, he was irresistible._

 _"God, I missed you," I whispered._

 _Not letting go of each others' hands, we settled down on a fallen log nearby, to sit and talk and hold each other._

 _I gave him the run down, what had happened when I'd returned, how nothing had happened while I was in Camelot, about the sleeplessness and the remembering, how this time around I'd been awake when I'd time-jumped to Camelot. I told him it had been not even two weeks since I'd woken up back in England._

 _"Two weeks?!" I nodded, a little confused at Mordred's incredulity. "Oh, Bailey, it's almost been a month here." I just shook my head, not understanding any of this, how times could be so convoluted and out of sync while us two were clearly not. He slid even closer, and put the arm that was holding my hand around me. How nice it was to fit there against him perfectly, once again safe and sound._

 _Mordred then spoke about what had transpired here. He'd been woken by my warmth and weight beside him fading, and had, naturally, freaked out. He had just opened his eyes in time to see a ghost-like image of me disappear. It hadn't been hard to piece together what had happened; what was difficult was explaining to my friends that didn't know the specifics what had happened. According to Mordred's retelling, I had been called away, back home to my mysterious village due to a family emergency. He'd told them he did not know when I'd be back, which was heart-breakingly truthful in both accounts. Elaine, Clarine, and Balan had been dealing with my stall and garden, of which I was tremendously grateful._

 _"I feel awful," I confessed. Mordred looked down at me with eyes that were just again learning how to look happy._

 _"Whatever for, love?" he asked._

 _I swallowed. "Here I thought I had it rough, crying myself to sleep and dreaming about you and this world, and half of the time doubting if any of you actually existed, but it was only for two weeks. Less than that! And I was on vacation, no work or responsibilities expected. I can't fathom a month without you…" Mordred smiled at me._

 _"Hiding all that from your family could not have been fun. I was sharing stories with Gwen and your children friends, because they'd apparently always known how I felt about you. They banded together around me and my solitude, so there's no need to worry. I had all our friends to support me." I wanted to interject, but Mordred knew my look and stopped me. "Don't feel bad." He kissed my shoulder. "I actually propose we feel happy and grateful." I grinned, but still looked at him with uncertainty. "Perhaps unlearning sadness is easier for me than you think!"_

 _"Wh…?!" I shook my head at him and demanded, "Can you read my mind?" I received a lovely, quirked eyebrow in response. "I am entirely serious! You always seem to echo my thoughts, except more beautifully phrased, or you know what I'm thinking before I do myself! You are uncanny!"_

 _My love just chuckled. "I'll never reveal my secrets! Maybe I can, maybe I can't."_

 _I elbowed him lightly in the side. He drew away and pretended offense. I was pleased, until, in a form of counter-attack, Mordred grabbed me around the middle and began tickling me. We wound up on the ground, thanks to my futile attempts to get away. And still he continued to torture me and ruin my dress!_

" _Stop it!" I squealed and gasped. "Mordred! I can't breathe!" Mordred rolled off of me onto his side. Propping himself up on his elbow, he gazed down at me, face alight with mischief. Then, he grew serious for a moment._

" _Or, perhaps," Mordred whispered, taking us back to our conversation about his mind-reading capabilities, "we're so in sync I just know what you're thinking. Or I can read it on your face. Same goes for you with me." He lingered with that thought. "We're meant to be together, Bailey. We must be, to be thusly attuned to each other. No one can deny it. The imprints of our hearts and minds are too compatible. So much so that it is clear to everyone who we love. I bet," here he paused to breathe and I paused to_ _remind_ _myself to breathe, even in the face of my gorgeous knight spewing poetry about us, "that whatever brought you here did so because it could see, through however many years and distances separating us, that we were meant to be." He nodded, a no-nonsense, no-room-for-argument nod. "Yes. That must be it."_

" _You truly believe that?" Mordred bent down and bestowed another mind-melting kiss on my undeserving lips. I couldn't even think the word radiant anymore; it wasn't enough._

 _Only once all feeling in my body (minus my lips) had stopped and revitalized and stopped again did he pull back and proclaim, "I know it!"_

" _Awwww! That is simply too sweet!" Mordred had yanked me half-way up by the time I'd realized that there was another person here, that an unknown voice had spoken. Or, almost unknown…_

 _Mordred went to draw his sword, but, too late, realized it was a few meters away, where he'd dropped it upon seeing me._

" _Oh dear. How remiss of you!" I felt my blood chill at those oh-too-familiar words, though I hadn't thought I could drop in temperature any further when I'd seen her._

 _Morgana Pendragon._

 _I had never seen Mordred look so frightened. Not when he was a child in Camelot and his father was captured, not when Uther's knights had invaded his camps, not when he had gone to plead for Kara in the show, not_ _even_ _when his rescue attempt for her had failed did Mordred look as he did in that moment with me. He had placed himself almost directly in front of me, though, and had his hands at the ready (though what he thought he could do I didn't know). I wanted to protest his being in front, I wanted to step forward to be level with him, but I was deathly afraid of moving and drawing Morgana's attention to me. I was deathly afraid of Morgana, period!_

 _The High Priestess stood at the other end of the small clearing, haughty and regal. She was every bit as stunning as she had been on the show, all stark white skin and raven hair. Forest living did not agree with her, however; her hair was matted, and her dress was dirty and worn. She didn't appear to have a weapon, but that didn't mean anything. I'd seen what she could do. Yet, all this I had known, had tried to prepare myself for if I ever met her. What the actress hadn't shown me were Morgana's eyes. Cold and fierce and skewer-you-with-a-pole eyes. They might have been lovely once, but now they were the merciless eyes of someone evil. Wherein I had been able to, if I'd really tried, to reconcile the woman Morgana had been early in the show with the murderess she'd become, there was none of that here. Morgana's eyes were wells of no remorse. You could drown in them. And they were fixated solely on Mordred._

" _I see my old friend is still masquerading as a knight." I don't know if I had ever been more afraid for another person as I was for Mordred when Morgana prowled forward, still only looking at my knight (and that's exactly what she did too,_ _prowled_ _, like a cat stalking a mouse!) "You still do it well, Mordred, but the time may yet come when playing dress-up is not enough."_

" _Morgana," Mordred's voice didn't waver, though I could see his hand tremble where it hung near my hip. "What do you want?"_

" _What I have always wanted. You, at my side." She said this like it was perfectly normal and reasonable and Mordred should have known this already._

' _That's not what you want,' I thought. Morgana's declaration had made me angry. 'You want Arthur and Camelot and you think Mordred is the way to give you those things.' Unfortunately, I was neither angry enough nor brave enough to say so out loud. I clenched my fists, now furious with myself. But say something I did not._

" _You and I both know that's not all you want, Morgana." I watched Mordred, amazed again at our echoing thoughts. He refused to look at me, because, futile as it was at this point, he didn't want her to know what we meant to each other. Mordred knew he would betray the extent of those feelings if he even so much glanced at me out of the corner of his eye. Morgana wasn't focussed on me, so I was less obvious, and I knew Mordred wanted to keep it that way. I also knew Mordred could feel my gaze; his jaw worked and he blinked double-time._

' _This will be ok.' I thought, desperately trying to convince myself and convey that to Mordred. 'We'll be ok.'_

 _Morgana gave a trill of a laugh. I supposed it was pretty, but all it did was raise my hackles and the hair on my arms. "No, that isn't all I want. I want what is rightfully mine. I want Arthur to pay for his crimes. I want our people to be free from tyranny. I want to be able to live openly again. Don't you want that, Mordred?" He shifted uneasily. Morgana took another couple steps forward. "No matter how much you fake fealty at Arthur's feet and declare your loyalty to him, you know the minute he discovers who you really are you will be scheduled for the gallows. Do not think for a second you won't be!" Mordred tensed, and I tensed with him._

" _Do not be so certain. He is a good man, Morgana!"_

" _Ha! You cannot be certain of what he would do either, otherwise he would know about your magic already."_

" _He_ _will_ _know, one day. Emrys will show him that there can be goodness in magic." Mordred sounded so resolute, and I was proud of him. But, perhaps Morgana saw some flicker of doubt that I could not._

" _You know, deep in your heart, that's not true." I dropped another degree in temperature when Mordred didn't immediately have another answer in defense._

" _ **Mordred**_ _?" I asked frantically in my head. He didn't respond. In words, that is._

 _Almost too fast for the eye to detect, Mordred thrust his arm out, incanting "Forbærne yfel!" in a dark voice. With a crack, a circle of flame spread around Morgana. I felt frightened – at the thought of her burning up in front of us, and that Mordred would be the cause, but also relieved that he had done something to put an end to her cruelty. I smiled carefully up at him, and he smiled back._

 _Our relief was too soon expressed, however. Morgana simply smirked, though the flames still encircled her. With a flash of her eyes, they died down with a subdued hiss. Before either of us could react to this, another flash of Morgana's eyes rendered my knight incapable of moving his feet. He growled in frustration and fear, meeting my eyes, again, with undisguised panic._

 _Morgana's eyes showed manic rage in the face of Mordred's attempted attack, and panic of my own for him twisted in my stomach. Then softening, Morgana sighed and said, "I just want what is best for you, Mordred."_

 _At that comment, I felt something ignite in my stomach, something bright and white-hot and fervid. It felt like the beginning of something bigger, and it sent waves of hatred tingling up from my stomach to the rest of my body. This was the opposite of my mint-like dissolving from earlier; this was expanding. Oh, I was angry enough_ _now_ _it would seem. Emblazoned and emboldened with rage, I stepped past Mordred._

" _You witch," I snarled. "You lying, scheming, hypocritical witch!" Mordred screamed my name telepathically, but I ignored him. If I backed down now, I would crumple into a sniveling pile at his feet, and my pride refused to let me do that. "You don't want freedom for magic practitioners! You're not fighting to free anyone. All you want is power, power your claim to is weak at best. Your reign would not be better than Arthur's! How many people died when you had the throne for that exceedingly short, singular time? In fact, your reign would be even worse than Uther's. At least Uther tried to justify his actions for the greater good. You, Morgana," I spat her name, "can't even boast that kind of justification. You cannot rule with grace and compassion, you wouldn't know how. And worse yet, you've lied and fooled even yourself to such a terrible extent that you cannot see all the damage using your sorcery against Arthur has caused. He may have accepted magic long ago if it weren't for you and your evil plots." At some point during my tirade, Mordred had stopped screaming, but I couldn't tell you when. Now, they were both alarmingly silent. "You are not fighting for anyone but yourself, Morgana, and the only thing you've actually succeeded in doing is losing your humanity along the way. I pity you, I actually do, but you better stop pretending that you care for_ _anyone_ _, especially Mordred here, or you will have me to deal with!"_

 _The only sound after that was me panting for breath. Everything was silent; not even the birds were singing. It felt like everything was waiting to see what would happen next. My hands felt ridiculously hot, and I clenched them at my sides. I didn't dare look at Mordred, and I definitely didn't dare look away from Morgana. She and I had been staring each other down throughout all this, and while I had been shouting, there was no fear of her anger and retribution. I couldn't tell what she was feeling as I screamed down at her. Now, I had stopped screaming. I was shaking. And I suddenly felt exhausted, just bone-weary. The white-hot burning in my stomach that had powered me throughout that whole spiel cowered and dwindled into a small core within. Couldn't I have just had a nice, quiet afternoon with Mordred? Was that too much to ask?_

" _ **Bailey…**_ _" Mordred hissed in my head, but he was cut off as Morgana smirked. With that single, small gesture, both of us stopped. Stopped breathing, thinking, hoping. Her eyes darkened, and now I was the one drowning in them, because I had drawn her attention to me. I regretted that now._

" _You_ _to deal with?" Morgana repeated slowly. "Forgive me if I'm not all that threatened, little time-jumper!" She spat time-jumper like I had spat her name. "But," then she nodded begrudgingly, "perhaps I underestimated your new companion, Mordred." Mordred grabbed my wrist, perhaps meaning to pull me back behind him. Morgana smiled, a bone-chilling, blood-curdling smile, and made a strange gesture with her hands. Her eyes flashed gold. I let out a strangled cry as I felt a tug in my gut, a pressure forcing me to walk forward against my will. Mordred let out a twin cry as he tried to maintain his hold on my wrist but couldn't._

" _Mordred!" I yelped, my last hold on my bravery and anger and reserve slipping away as Morgana spelled me over to her. Her flashed the dreaded gold again, not directed at me this time, but at Mordred. I called his name as I couldn't see what the witch had done, but all I heard were muffled grunts in response, and my pulse spiked in panic._

 _Then, I was in front of Morgana Pendragon, staring her right in her dead eyes._

 _I cut right to the chase. "You know who I am."_

" _The time-jumper, the solution to all my enemies' problems, brought here to save them," Morgana sneered. "Of course, I've heard of you." She put on a whiny, sing-song voice. "The little girl from the Twenty-first Century." My face flushed at the mockery. Morgana continued, "Honestly, I was expecting someone more impressive after all the fuss everyone was making. Perhaps someone taller. Stronger."_

" _Fuss?" I repeated quietly, ignoring her barbs._

" _Yes._ _Fuss_ _. None of the known prophecies or_ _actual_ _seers had predicted this. Everything was playing out the way they'd foretold, when, all of the sudden, you showed up. It was like a great rift had occurred. I felt it. It was like throwing a million different pebbles into a stream and creating a million different ripples. Your arrival disrupted the flow of life and magic in Camelot, and it hasn't gone back to normal since. Has it, Mordred?" There was still no response from the Druid. Morgana looked almost conspiratorial as she stage-whispered to me, "Mordred, as a powerful sorcerer and a Druid, probably felt it the moment you arrived. Emrys," her voice shook on Merlin's other name, though she tried to disguise it, "too."_

 _I shrugged, even though I was terrified and my feet had gone numb from being under Morgana's control. "I don't know why I was brought here. I don't know how either. And I haven't done anything, other than…" I trailed off, a couple realizations sinking in._

" _Ah yes, you have." The dawning truth was I had done something, something that had undeniably changed everything. It had been my very first goal here, after all, the one I based all my other decisions (some of them not the smartest) on. "You saved Kara,_ _Bailey_ _," Morgana declared. "And yes, it was impressive. And incredibly annoying. But it would have only been a minor setback." As puzzling as Morgana's statements were, a long-held theory I'd had about Kara's involvement resurfaced in my mind. My courage began to simmer._

 _Morgana got right up into my face. It took all of my willpower and bravery not to flinch away. "Kara was one course of action out of many. But what I cannot figure out, despite all my vast knowledge, is what you could have possibly done to capture Mordred's heart, and, moreover, break Kara's hold on him." As she said this, she gasped my cheeks in her strong hands, turning my face side to side, as if studying some unknown and meager new life form._

 _At that injustice, my anger flared again, and my hands seemed to throb with heat. The ignited spot in my stomach, which had shrunk even further when faced with Morgana and her spell, burned a little bigger. I tried to wrench my face out of Morgana's grasp, but to no avail. She examined me at her leisure, and then got even more right-up close and personal._

" _I'll let you go when I'm ready, time-jumper." Which is exactly what she did, and then she slapped me across the face. I didn't even have time to cry out it was so sudden. Shocked and almost nauseous from the force, I brought my hand to my stinging cheek. Tears sprang to my eyes, but I would be damned if the witch saw them._

" _Morgana," I heard Mordred all but roar from behind me, "you harm another hair on her head and I will gut you like a fish, see if I don't!" It sounded as if he was fighting against something, struggling to get the words out. But I cannot express how relieved I was at hearing his voice. Everything inside me warmed at the thought of him threatening Morgana because of something she'd done to me, even if my good feeling couldn't last long._

 _Morgana just laughed. "With what? Your rusted sword you so carelessly dropped over there? I think not." I wanted to glance back at Mordred; not being able to see him was really doing a number on my confidence. I wanted to know what was going on and reassure him that I'd be ok, but I feared taking my eyes off Morgana. Facing her, I drew myself up to my full height, though it wasn't much, and squared my shoulders. After everything she'd just said, a realization had hit me squarely in the chest. My rage was great enough for me to ride its waves, enabling me to face-off with the High Priestess once again._

" _You planned it," I rumbled, fury taking my voice down to a growl. "All of it. It was never a coincidence that Kara was part of that raid party, or that she got injured." Morgana sucked her teeth, but didn't deny it. "I'd wager that the Saxons had orders to even let her get injured and left behind!" Mordred, from somewhere behind me, made a terrible, strangulated cry that shattered my heart just to hear. "I can't even guess how you envisioned the end-result or how you thought anything at all would come of it. But. Guess. What?" Morgana blinked at me with false indifference, but I felt my courage gaining some traction, some movement. I was a train once again rolling downhill baby! "I stopped your plan, Morgana. I beat you." Out of my peripheral vision, I saw someone approaching us by circling around in the trees, but I couldn't let myself focus on them, or even check to make sure I wasn't seeing things. If there was someone sneaking up on Morgana, I would_ _not_ _be the one to give them away. I continued to taunt her. "And it will only be a matter of time before we beat you once and for all and send you and your army of Saxons running for the hills." I beamed, my heart a pounding drum in my chest and head, my hands pulsating with that strange warmth, and that ignition in my stomach growing larger still._

 _Morgana was put off for a second; I could see it in her black eyes, no matter how fast she schooled her features into sadistic grin. I had no idea what she was going to do next, a thought that dampened my fortitude again, when a slight 'snap' sounded from almost directly behind the sorceress. She whirled around. I drew back an inch. What we both saw was Mordred holding his reclaimed sword. He'd been about to strike her down. Faster than humanly possible, Morgana lashed out with her hands and her magic. Her eyes flashed an intensely bright yellow, and what almost looked like lightning whipped towards Mordred. I had only seen such spells on the show a handful of times, which I took to mean they were awfully powerful. I couldn't remember if I'd seen anyone who was struck in such a way survive. I didn't know if there was some way to avoid or counteract this spell._

 _All this flew through my head. All I could do was watch, horrified, as the blast struck my love in the chest and sent him flying through the air. For a split second, it all stopped._

 _And then everything inside me erupted._

 _My thoughts exploded. My heart caved in on itself multiple times over. My chest itself imploded, all the air leaving it like I'd fallen and winded myself. My legs essentially gave out. I wasn't seeing anything at all clearly. The heat from my hands, that I hadn't had time to give thought to at all, vanished. All my body heat was sucked towards that pit, that ignition point in my stomach, vacuum, black-hole-style. For an instant, it all coalesced into this center, this solid and weighty core. For an instant, there was nothing. And then I screamed. It was so instinctual, so torn out and ripped to shreds, so utterly necessary, so primal and guttural and_ _inhuman_ _, that at first I didn't even know the blood-curdling sound was coming from me. That the one long, anguished note was something I could produce was unreconcilable._

 _The nothing then became everything as I wailed. Off-shoots and tingles and flames, stars ricocheting in my head, pinpricks of pain from all my joints and muscles. Every. Thing. And a split second where time seemed to stop and all the world flashed gold._

 _I wasn't really seeing anything, but what I could make out made no form of sense. Morgana had been standing where she'd been when she'd attacked Mordred, almost directly between him and me. After the flash, I saw her flying back through the air, as if having been struck with something powerful and invisible. I watched, uncomprehending, trying to prepare myself for when she fell. But, she never did. At least, not where I could see her. Morgana flew out of my field of vision, past Mordred's crumpled form and through the trees._

 _I was on my knees, panting, the world stable once again. My scream had dwindled down into nothing. The chaos inside me had subsided somewhat. My central core had shrunk again out of existence, though I imagined I would have no trouble calling on it again. If I concentrated just barely enough, I could feel some of it still singing through my veins._

 _I waited exactly five heartbeats for Morgana to return before staggering to my feet. After falling after two wobbly steps, I decided to crawl my way to Mordred. My heart hitched in my chest as I dragged myself over to his prone form. There were the thinnest little wisps of smoke rising from where Morgana had struck him, but there didn't seem to be any injuries. He was breathing, and I was trying to decide if taking his chainmail off to make sure he wasn't burned anywhere was a good idea when he coughed. I moved closer to his head._

 _There were a few more coughs, then Mordred closed his eyes even more tightly (like his head hurt) and groaned. "Bailey?"_

 _Relief and hope fluttered in my chest like twin doves. "Mordred! Are you…are you ok? Is there anything I should do?" With a wince, he opened his eyes and gazed at me._

" _I think I'll make it." There was a teasing, if worn, lilt to his voice. I caressed his cheek, thankful beyond belief. My eyes must have conveyed all my fears, because Mordred smiled, found my hand where it rested beside him, and kissed it._

" _I swear I'll be fine." With a grunt, he attempted to sit up and wheeled quite dizzily. "Woah," he murmured, bringing a hand to the back of his head. I followed it, and found a sizeable bump. Mordred closed his eyes again against the dizziness, waiting for it to pass. When he opened his bright blues again, I held three fingers up in front of them._

" _How many fingers am I holding up?" I demanded, but Mordred just laughed quietly._

" _Three." He took my hand then, and rubbed his thumb comfortingly along the back of it. I felt some of my fear - for him, for me – dissipate. "Bailey, we were fortunate. Though I have a decent-sized bump, she must not have struck me that hard." I saw it, the instant the memory welcomed itself back in. Mordred leapt to his feet, dragging me up with him. "Where did Morgana go, Bailey?" he asked, looking around wildly. "What happened?" Something must have dawned on him then, because he stared at me suddenly with narrowed eyes. "How can I be sure you_ _aren't_ _her?"_

 _I spoke in his mind. "_ _ **You used magic to show me that radiance can go both ways by bringing me into your thoughts from the first day you met me.**_ _" Mordred looked somewhat relieved. He smiled sheepishly. "As for what happened," I carried on outside our minds, "I'm really not sure."_

 _I recounted for him everything I could. He seemed endearingly flattered that I had broken down out of fear for him, equal parts abashed and pleased._

 _When I came to the part about my scream and Morgana's flight, Mordred did a double-take - "You what?" - so I told him again, in as much detail as I could. He did a little jump, excited and wowed and questioning all in one. "Can you do something for me, love?"_

" _Of course!" I said._

 _He bit his lip. "Can you try to recreate that scream, how you were feeling when it happened? We'll use…" Mordred looked around, "this!" he declared, as his gaze alighted on the decaying log we'd been sitting on in those long-ago moments before the witch had shown up. "Here." Mordred hauled it over, wincing slightly as he did so, and balanced it on an end so it was standing vertically. We tried to approximate a placement so the distance between it and me was similar to that of Morgana and me. Mordred then ran over to the far side of the trees. "Alright!" he called, "Whenever you're ready, Bailey. Just do the best you can." I nodded and closed my eyes._

 _The tiny point in my stomach, that had more or less started this, was still there. I could feel it. There was a pulse now too, faint and almost unnoticeable, but there all the same. 'Ok,' I thought. 'Chanel fear, Bailey.'_

" _That shouldn't be hard for you!" my inner voice pipped up. It had been so silent for awhile now, I'd almost begun to miss it. Almost._

 _I tried for a few minutes, but there was nothing. No spark or heat._

" _Nothing's happening!" I cried._

" _Keep trying. I know what this is, we just need to prove it!" I had an idea as well, one of those instincts one sometimes gets without even really knowing it - something unformed that isn't really proven until it happens, like when I just sensed that someone was going to die in one of my books, even when I didn't want to admit it. But, I tried to put all that out of my mind. I stopped trying to think about heat and making the log fly backwards. Instead, I thought about how fricken scared I had been facing Morgana. I imagined Mordred being struck again, and me not being able to do anything at all to stop it. I felt something stir inside me. I grabbed a hold of that slippery little shiver, and I riled it up to the best of my ability. Imagining Mordred getting hurt or maimed, I felt panic and fear, incapacitating fear. 'Mordred could die. He will die if you don't stop Morgana.' My hands heated up, and still I pressed on. 'He'll die and it will be all your fault. You egged her on, and he was just trying to save you and…'_

 _Finally, it all burst out in a roar. It wasn't as moment-bred as the other one, but I knew it would do the trick (with that instinctual_ _knowing_ _again). My eyes ruptured open, forced wide by the power straining out of me. My world went golden once more. Suddenly, with a clarity brought upon by the flash, I knew. I knew it even as Mordred hollered in elation. Even as my sight returned, in time to see the log fly back, though not as far as Morgana had, until it hit a tree and crunched._

" _Bailey -" Mordred exhaled my name with an incredulous puff. He ran over to me, scooping me up in his arms, with no sign of the reserved boy I had once known in sight. "My love -" he nuzzled into my neck, "you have magic." I held him tight, right over where my heart was knocking out a walloping rhythm. I knew it to be true, yet I could not believe…_

" _How?" I asked, though I knew he didn't have the answers. "Mordred, how on Earth…How can I?"_

" _I don't know!" Mordred was jubilant, despite not holding answers. "You're just so amazing!" I smiled in spite of myself. Setting me down, Mordred continued. "Can we try something else?" His enthusiasm was infectious, so I nodded affirmative._

 _The new spark was still very much there, and even easier to access than before._

" _Forbearnan." I whispered the strange word Mordred had just taught me, relishing in the feeling of newness and ancient strength and how the very word reminded me of flames. I felt a tug, saw the flash of gold, and beamed a smile at my dear knight in front of me. My smile was not the only thing providing light anymore though. There, on the tiny palm of my outstretched hand, was a bright flame._

 _We stared at it for a long while, Mordred and I. I wished, with a sudden, searing sadness, that time would just stop right there. I wished it wouldn't force us to keep moving forward. But, of course, time didn't oblige me._

 _The flame, after what could have only been a few minutes, dwindled down and burnt out. My hand remained out in front of me, looking like it always had: tiny, dainty, not very strong. Mordred took my unremarkable hand and gently folded it in his own._

 _He said, "Just when you think you cannot be surprised by this world anymore…Just when you think no wonder could top the presence of an incredible, radiant girl from the future here with you, something like this happens." I blushed at the word radiant._

" _So, what happens now?" I asked._

 _Mordred smiled. "How about we go home?" I smiled too, at the word home and the thought of everyone and thing I'd been missing._

* * *

" _Mordred?"_

" _Yes, love?" I squeezed his hand tightly and bit my lip, relishing in the feeling that word created. Love._

" _I was just wondering…what were you doing out in the forest all alone?"_

 _We had been walking for some time in peace and quiet, having exhausted all avenues of discussion about my magic. I couldn't remember ever being so at peace, holding hands and walking in the cool shade of the forest with the love of my life. But the question had occurred to me, and now I was curious._

 _Mordred just chuckled, only slightly sheepish. "You know I've been miserable without you." I squeezed his hand again, and he smiled at me contentedly. "Everyone else knew as well, it would seem. They all attempted to cheer me up." I giggled outright, imagining what antics Gwaine and Percival and Arthur would have gotten up to. "While I appreciated it, I was still pretty morose. So morose in fact, that not only Gwen and Merlin, but Gaius, Leon, and Elaine all went to Arthur to petition that I have some time off."_

" _That was so good of them!" I exclaimed. "Not that I'm surprised, of course."_

 _Mordred nodded, then shrugged. "I just like walking. It calms my mind. Some days, I stroll through the city, and some days I come out here."_

 _My Druid knight stopped then, and pulled me into him (there was no resistance on my part). I smiled up at him as he smiled down at me._

 _I bit my lip, thinking about how absolutely incredible and wonderful and mind-boggling this was –_ _he_ _was – but simply said, "It's lucky that you picked today to be out here then."_

 _Mordred kissed the hand he was clasping, then grabbed the other one and did the same, so he was holding both of my tiny hands in his larger ones. His eyes were twinkling with love and cheeky mischief._

 _He shrugged again. "Fate," he whispered, as we met halfway for yet another scalding kiss (however many times we did kiss could never be enough!) I threw my arms around him, and he tangled his hands in my hair and moaned._

 _I could have stayed like that all day, kissing him with everything I had, the sunlight streaming in through breaks in the leaves above us, when, suddenly, a high-pitched, animalistic scream tore through the air. Mordred and I broke apart, searching wildly for the source of the noise. It came again, even closer and louder than before._

 _With a gasp, I looked up to the forest canopy to see The White Dragon bearing down on us._

* * *

 **And that's another one. Ok guys, the way it is looking right now, there are only two chapters left...that's tentative though as I still have to write them. So, the next few updates may be a little slower and I'm sorry for that. At the same time, I'm super excited for what I have planned, and I hope you guys like it too. Thanks to all who read, especially to Chinaza837 for the follow. And please guys, feel free to review...**

 **Until next time then! Have an amazing day.**


	15. Surprises

**A thousand apologies oh patient ones. I now know why I do not write action sequences, especially those involving a dragon.**

 ***WARNING: Some f bombs and taking the Lord's name in vain**

 **Also, should I mention I don't remotely own a thing about Merlin one more time?**

* * *

 _14_

 _Surprises_

 _ **Previously:**_

I could have stayed like that all day, kissing him with everything I had, the sunlight streaming in through breaks in the leaves above us, when, suddenly, a high-pitched, animalistic scream tore through the air. Mordred and I broke apart, searching wildly for the source of the noise. It came again, even closer and louder than before.

With a gasp, I looked up to the forest canopy to see The White Dragon bearing down on us.

* * *

 _Both of us were frozen, petrified by utter shock and sheer fear. Aithusa let loose a terrible screech that tore at my heart, and with that screech came a pillar of flame. Were it not for my knight love beside me, I would have burnt up like the girl of ash and flame I so often felt like. As it was, Mordred tackled me, sending us flying to the ground and out of the path of the fire._

" _Ommph!" Pain racketed through my body, but I'm sure it was better than being charred to a crisp. Aithusa flew past with a cry of frustration, close enough overhead to touch. For a second, we lay there gasping, winded, until Mordred yanked me to my feet. We started trying to run, Mordred dragging me as fast as I could go in my medieval dress. We did not make it very far before the dragon was close at hand again, having circled back around. We skid to a hasty stop. Mordred brandished his sword wildly above his head, slicing through Aithusa's wing as she flew past, close enough to crash into us if she so chose._

 _Screaming, the young dragon sailed only a few feet further before crashing to the ground with a surprisingly tremendous thud, given her small stature._

" _Quickly, let's get out of here!" Mordred spun me on my heel, and we sprinted back in the direction we had just run from, then quickly veered into the trees beside us. That would make it difficult for a dragon to follow, even a small one. I heard Aithusa screech a screech that petered out pitifully behind us, but I kept on running, taking solace in Mordred's boots thundering beside me._

' _Run, Bailey. Run like you've never run before, because you and Mordred both know you cannot defeat a dragon, even a young one…"_

 _My oh so helpful and optimistic encouragements were cut off mid-sprint as I lurched forward, forced to a stop by something unknown behind me, and promptly fell flat on my face. I looked behind me only to see that my dress was caught on one of the low-living bushes all around us. Desperately, I tried to wrench and tear myself free, frantically glancing back and forth in case Aithusa appeared. She did not. Far from reassuring me, this heightened my panic because I did not know where she was. Mordred had come now to try and free me from the meddlesome bush, and while I was grateful, I felt a little ashamed._

' _I'm_ _that_ _girl now,' I thought. 'The useless one who slows everyone down and gets them all killed.' Still, we fought with the bush, scratching our hands on the rough branches and thorns, trying to rip the fabric, anything that would allow us to continue our flight. But we had no luck._

" _Mordred," I finally wheezed, "just go. I'll catch up with you once I get free." He acted as if he didn't hear, bending further over my legs to get at the snagged cloth. I kicked my legs, willing him to get away to safety, and scanned the forest for signs of a white dragon. Suddenly, I saw something that would help us in our plight. I can assure you, I felt quite stupid not thinking of it before. "Mordred," I gasped again, this time grabbing at his shoulders to force him to listen to me, "go grab your sword!" His eyes widened, and instantly he was up and gone._

 _The sword was only a few paces away – I suppose Mordred had dropped it when I fell, proof that neither of us were thinking straight at the moment. I was confident that we were safe for the time being, until a flash of white drew my gaze, and made my heart rise into my mouth. Aithusa must have cut into the forest instead of chasing us back down the path, because she had come up from behind, and was now approaching between Mordred and me. Fear iced over everything and made it hard to think, until she began to slink toward Mordred, whose back was turned as he bent to retrieve his sword for the second time that day._

 _How such a large creature meant for soaring through the air could move with such stealth was beyond me, but Aithusa managed it._

" _Mordred!" I cried, but the sound lodged in my throat as Mordred turned, to be met by a spiral of flame. He narrowly dived out of the way, only to be caught by the dragon's spiked tail, and flung into the trunk of a tree, also for the second time that day. "Mordred!" I screamed again, this time managing to push the sound out. My newly discovered magic made no attempts to lash out this time, despite my all-around desperation. In fact, I could barely feel the core or the pulsing that I knew signaled it._

 _I looked over to where Mordred had crumpled (again), straining to see if he was breathing, if he was bleeding. My appraisal of my love was cut short when I realized that maybe screaming hadn't been in my best interests - Aithusa now whirled on me, apparently deciding that Mordred was no longer interesting or that he was…he was…I bit back a sob, unable to even comprehend such a possibility._

 _Aithusa prowled over, and I thrashed in a full-blown panic. My magic was playing hard-to-get, and I only knew one spell I could produce with any success. Mordred was…unconscious, injured, who knew what, and his sword lay useless beside him. My dress was still caught, and no amount of twisting and pulling was going to help. There was a presumably hostile dragon fast approaching. I was in, as Gwaine might have said, "Quite a pickle."_

 _I kept waiting for Aithusa to broil me with another blast of flame, but, for some reason, she refrained. The closer she got, the more still I became, until she was so close I could have reached out and touched her. I hardly dared to breathe. The anticipation was_ _killing_ _me. I wanted her to do something, anything, to end my waiting._

 _She stopped moving forward, but continued to stare at me with her large, watery eyes. We blinked at each other. And then, suddenly, for whatever reason, all my fear vanished. The dragon before me was brutally deformed, looking nothing like her majestic kin. She seemed to be in great pain, perhaps from her injured wing. I felt a pang; we'd done that, never mind that she had attacked first. A line came to me (don't ask me why, at a time like this, but it did) a line from_ _Wicked_ _: "I'm Elphaba, the other daughter. I'm beautifully tragic.*"_

" _Beautifully tragic," I whispered aloud. Aithusa simply continued to stare down at me. Then, without thinking about it, I slowly sat up to a more comfortable position, holding my breath in case the movement frightened her. The White Dragon did not flinch away. Now, we were eye level with each other, and, meeting those sad blue eyes, pity and compassion and sorrow bubbled up in place of all my previous fear. With the utmost caution, I extended my hand. 'I'm not at all threatening. Please don't think I'm threatening,' I begged inwardly. Aithusa still didn't move. Then, without warning, my hand was on her snout._

" _Hello," I breathed, slowly stroking the scales under my hand. They were much more soft and supple than Kilgharrah's, perhaps because she was much younger. "Hello, Aithusa." At the sound of her name, the young dragon butted my hand playfully. A small laugh escaped me. All thoughts of our current predicament fled my mind in the face of this pitiable yet magical creature in front of me._

" _Cume boden!" Instantly, the wind began to pick up, shaking the bush and whipping my hair into my face. Aithusa whimpered and backed away, her tail and wings pummeled and forced about by the strong winds. I felt the presence of strong magic, and tried to brush my hair out of my face to see who cast the incantation. When I did, all I could see was a hurricane-like funnel of wind rapidly approaching Aithusa, who gave a caterwaul as the wing Mordred had injured was forced to unfold by the wind. I watched in horror as the dragon tried to regain control of her appendage, and the tear in it increased._

" _Aithusa!" I cried. Somehow, I managed to struggle to my feet. I was in no position to aid the dragon in anyway however, caught on the bush as I was. Again, I cried, "Mordred!" but my voice was torn away by the wind. Aithusa bellowed. Another great gust of wind blew through, making her injured wing dance dangerously, and blowing me back to the ground. I tried once more, screaming in my head: "_ _ **MORDRED**_ _!"_

" _ **B…Bailey**_ _…?" His voice was extremely strained, but also exceedingly relieved. "_ _ **Are you alright? Where's the dragon? What did she do to you**_ _?" The barrage of questions was overwhelming. I shook my head uncomprehendingly._

" _ **I am fine. Aithusa didn't hurt me. But you…are you well? Mordred, I don't know if I've ever been as scared for someone as I have been for you today**_ _!"_

" _ **I am…well enough**_ _," came the strained answer. With another horrid wail, the wind increased even further, pushing Aithusa back – her claws slipping over the leaves - with every gust. "_ _ **Just keep your head down while I…**_ _"_

" _Mordred!" A new cry resounded, even over the windy maelstrom, angry and commanding and powerful. "Stop!" Instantly, the wind died down until there was little more than a summer breeze blowing. Aithusa whimpered as her wing was finally free to rest on her back once again. I remained where I was, too shocked and weary to stand._

 _Merlin was striding towards us, a great anger in his eyes. He took stock of the situation – me, tangled in the bush, Aithusa lowing in pain, Mordred barely able to stand – though none of it really surprised him. The first thing the great warlock did was kneel by my side and cut me free with a knife. I thanked him and ran over to Mordred, heart threatening to pound out of my chest._

 _My love was not fairing too well: his face was pale and beaded with sweat; his eyes were dilated, which could not have been a good sign after all his encounters smacking into trees today; he had three long, nasty gashes from Aithusa's claws** (which had cut through his chain mail) that were bleeding heavily; and he was shaking, though, as I approached, I was unclear if it was due to rage or exhaustion. He stumbled towards me and we clung to each other. I was shaking too, tremors of ebbing fear and shock rendering my legs practically useless. But Mordred held me close, and ran his hands through my tangled hair. I could feel his heart, very much still pumping, through both our chests. I took a deep breath, and let it out with a whoosh. We were ok. Somehow, we were ok._

 _Merlin was murmuring to Aithusa; I could just make out some of it from behind me, though it was in the dragon language. I moved back from Mordred's embrace just a little, watching Merlin examine the tear in her wing. For the first time since I'd time-jumped, I found myself afraid of…of Merlin. The anger in his eyes looked hot enough to ignite a fire. And then, he turned his blazing gaze to us._

" _What. Happened?"_

 _My return. Finding Mordred. Morgana. My magic. Aithusa. The meddlesome bush. The magic-induced wind. So much had happened that it made my head spin, and, almost, for a split second, made me wish to be back in my own time boarding the plane home. But Merlin just listened with a face of stone._

" _So,_ _you_ _cast the wind spell, Mordred?" he finally asked. Mordred nodded. I watched them both, more than a little wary. Merlin was frighteningly furious. Mordred had a look in his eye that reminded me of hard flint._

" _I believed Aithusa was attacking Bailey. I couldn't see much from my angle."_

 _Merlin was seething. "But…she wasn't. Bailey is fine!" I nodded quickly. Would anything I was capable of doing defuse this situation? Merlin continued, as Mordred's arm tensed around me dramatically: "Aithusa, however, is not!" The dragon moaned just to punctuate the warlock's point._

" _She attacked us, Merlin. She is allied with Morgana, who would have done who knows what if Bailey hadn't stopped her." Mordred was trying to keep his cool, but I could feel rage and frustration rolling off him in waves._

" _You injured her wing, Mordred. She may never fly again!" I was rather afraid now, of and for both of them, but Merlin's statement cut at my heart like a sword. My gaze went over to the deformed dragon, in pain and afraid, cowering behind Merlin; I'd been a part of injuring and harming her, no matter if it was in self defense at the time, and my guilt was a bitter draft to swallow._

 _I was immediately drawn back into the issue at hand as Merlin and Mordred both took threatening steps forward._

 _Merlin shouted, "Hasn't she been deformed enough?!"_

" _She ATTACKED us, Merlin! She attacked_ _Bailey_ _. If that dragon had so much as laid a claw on Bailey, I swear to you, she would be dead now!" Aithusa hissed – I'm not sure if she could fully understand but she definitely received the message – and Merlin looked an inch away from throwing Mordred back with an attack spell. My love was powerful, but he would be no match for Emrys, and another run in with a tree at that. Regardless, I was unwilling to let it come to blows._

" _Stop!" I cried, panic making my voice shrill. "Just stop right now! Merlin," I wrenched away from Mordred's arm and rounded on the warlock, "Mordred and I can not begin to comprehend your magical abilities. As such, we were lucky to escape Morgana with our lives. And Aithusa did attack us. She's attacked you for fuck's sake! We tried to run away and she chased us down. We're not dragon lords, Merlin. What would you have had us do?" He looked shell-shocked and surprised, but not as surprised as Mordred when I whirled on him. "Mordred. I_ _love_ _you. But Aithusa did not hurt me and was not attacking me. There was no reason for your wind spell, and you are in no condition to perform such magic! Stop being angry at Merlin and_ _think_ _for a second. I can, to some extent at the very least, take care of myself. Worry about yourself for a change. You look like death warmed over!" Mordred tried to brush it off, but I could see just how bone-weary he was._

 _I addressed Merlin again: "Can't we just stop arguing and address the real issues here, like the very injured knight and dragon you and I have on our hands?!"_

 _The men were silent as I finished, panting from my rant. I waited for one of them to say something. Then finally, Mordred turned to Merlin._

" _You're a dragon lord?" Merlin nodded, a sheepish smirk in place. Mordred simply shook his head then, like nothing new could ever surprise him again, and held out his hand to Merlin. Merlin, in turn, came forward and clasped Mordred's hand like the knights did with each other, with a nod that said he could move on. I gaped at them, amazed they could put such things aside, at least for now. I suppose it spoke to just how much my arrival had affected. My heart was warmed at the sight._

 _Mordred turned to me then, and I tried very hard to keep my stern and angry face in place. It was difficult. Mordred's mouth twitched as he tried to contain a smirk at my evident struggle, but when my frown deepened, he managed to take my hands, look me in the eyes, and say, "I'm sorry," rather seriously. I simply nodded and smiled lightly, giving up on resistance._

 _Merlin coaxed Aithusa over, though she seemed especially wary of Mordred, and we all stared at one another, clearly unsure of what to do next._

 _Merlin shifted from foot to foot. "I think I may be able to heal Aithusa's wing, but I'd have to take her back to Camelot. I remember seeing a spell that might do the trick in one of Gaius' books, but I can't quite remember it. I need that book; I've never been adept at healing spells." Mordred needed to get back to Camelot right away, all of us, probably even Aithusa, could see that, so we agreed that seemed like the best course of action, in spite of the dangers of bringing a young dragon with us. Briefly, I wondered if Aithusa could heal Mordred like she'd healed Morgana long ago, but then wondered if it was more a question of_ _would_ _she. The dragon seemed to harbour an especial dislike for my knight, and I wondered if that was due to his knighthood or something else._

 _We had not gone far when Mordred stopped suddenly as if something had occurred to him. "What were you doing out here in the forest, Merlin?" Merlin avoided his gaze, which was a mistake. As I had learned, staying silent in response to Mordred's queries was a fatal beginner's error. "You were following me, weren't you?" The other man slowly nodded, and finally looked up at Mordred. The knight didn't seem angry; I could tell when he was angry. No, it was more like he expected Merlin to have a decent explanation this time around and was now waiting to hear it._

 _Merlin huffed a little laugh. "I've taken to following you when I can, because I've been worried about you. You know we all have been. It was never difficult to see how much Bailey meant to you, but only Gaius and I knew the full story…" Merlin looked over at me, like I might have been angry on behalf of Mordred or something, but I just nodded and he went back to explaining. "I just wanted to be there to help in case you did something irrational, like, for instance, trying to spell yourself to where Bailey was or spell her back here. Who knows what would have happened!" Merlin did actually smile at Mordred then. "Today, as you were on your way out of the castle, I got stopped by Gwaine and had to skillfully extract myself from going to the tavern with him or listening to his apple puns. By the time I got away, you had vanished, and I had no idea where you'd gone. I guessed you'd be in the forest since you haven't been in a while, and then managed to track you down by following the powerful magic. I just had to follow the signs of complete disaster…" Merlin trailed off nervously and I waited, wondering if Mordred would believe him._

 _My heart nearly stopped when Mordred patted Merlin on the back, saying, "You have been nothing but kind since Bailey left…and it almost made me think your suspicions had started up again. But, if you've been following me all this time because you've been worried for me…then you know I definitely needed someone to look out for me. I'm sorry the one day you weren't able to help I got into trouble." Merlin smiled, and no, it wasn't the full-on Merlin beam, but it was genuine. I felt my eyes well up and my breath hitch as I watched the two of them walking side-by-side in front of me. For Merlin to finally put aside his suspicion of Mordred…and for Mordred to admit he needed Merlin's help…It had been a long while since I'd experienced a fangirl-feels moment here in Camelot, not since my first week most likely, but short of Arthur accepting Merlin's magic, this was something I'd longed for and had never been sure I'd see, even after my arrival and Kilgharrah's words._

 _I had to swallow several times before the lump in my throat dissolved._

 _I'd like to say we finally made it back to Camelot without further mishap. It would have been perfect if we had. But sadly…_

 _It was slow going with our injured comrades, but Merlin thought we'd make it before nightfall, which was a relief. We trudged on, Mordred with a slight limp and Aithusa trying not to drag her wing, until the dragon stopped with a plaintive cry. Merlin crouched by her as Mordred and I halted. She didn't appear to be in any more pain than she was already, it was something else. We looked around, and Merlin listened intently to our surroundings, but came up with no answers._

 _He stood. "We should get moving again…" That was not to be, however. Mordred, this time, gave a half-conscious groan and fell to his knees. I panicked (again). The rest of the world dissolved from importance (again)._

" _Mordred!" I screamed (again), simultaneously crying out in my mind as well. I saw Merlin flinch from the volume, and realized he could hear me in his head (that sometimes could happen if one wasn't concentrating hard enough). Mordred only swayed. I caught him before he fell, sacrificing my knees and what was left of my dress and not caring. I continued to cry out, both in my mind and out loud, but the only response I received was the fluttering of his eyelids._

" _Christ, Mordred, please…" I slapped his face in utter desperation, and caught a mumbled "I'm fine."_

 _"Merlin!" The warlock was gazing off down the path we'd been travelling on. He looked all the world like a puppy with his ears perked. A puppy that could turn into an attack dog, I reminded myself. "MERlin!" He held up his hand in a clear gesture for silence, and I at least had the presence of mind to obey. When I did, my blood ran cold. What I hadn't been able to hear over the battering rhythm of my heart was the distinct sound of horses' hooves._

 _Merlin and I exchanged a panicked glance. He pushed at Aithusa's flank to get her to move into the trees but she wouldn't budge._

 _"It's what she heard earlier, isn't it?" Merlin gave the barest of nods in reply. "What should we do?!" I admit I was not calm at all. This was the third crisis of the day, and that was three crises too many! I felt my nerves shredding and my panic growing. "Merlin, what should we do?" He pushed at Aithusa again, but she was a wall. I felt everything heating up inside me, and thought I recognized what this was signaling. "Merlin, I can't…"_

 _Before Merlin could react accordingly, the world flashed gold and the heat exploded out of my hands. The build up had been so sudden this time, I had no time to freak out. Instead, some internal instinct knew to aim my hands at my love as much as I could manage under limited control. Merlin exclaimed, but I couldn't really hear, and the heat was fading, and my vision was returning, and hope was springing (you know it springs eternal…) I held my breath as my sight returned to normal, and my hearing returned. We could now hear men calling to each other just yards down the path from us._

" _Bailey…" Mordred was sitting up, blue eyes wide as he made out the approaching patrol sounds. He didn't look completely healed or renewed, but I could work with him like this for now. "What…?"_

" _Up!" I exclaimed, and yanked him to his feet. He didn't argue, just followed. Merlin seemed to make some headway in getting Aithusa to move, and with Mordred back on his feet and at least coherent, I felt that hope that had sprung up grow and grow._

" _Come on, come on, come on," Merlin muttered. None of his magic attempts seemed to get Aithusa out of sight any faster, and I was fresh out of party tricks, but I thought we might make it to the trees just in time…_

" _You thought wrong," my inner voice sneered, as Mordred made to lean on my shoulder for support and fell flat on his backside._

" _Mordred!"_

" _Bailey!" Something in his voice made me stop. "You…you're…" I looked down to see my hands and arms becoming transparent. I tried to clasp them together, to grab at something, but everything passed right through as if I'd become a ghost. Merlin and Aithusa stopped, so close, yet so far, from safety. The dragon gave a quiet call that I could have sworn meant she was alarmed and maybe a little concerned for me. Merlin's face said the same, but then he seemed to figure it all out._

 _My vision was going white and bright again, much faster than it had in the airport. I turned to my love, seeing my horror and misery reflected in his eyes. He knew what was happening, as did I._

" _I don't want to leave you! I can't just…" My voice was fading, as was the rest of me. The world around was winking in and out of sight in the blinding whiteness, but I kept my eyes fixated on Mordred. He blew a kiss and smiled with such heartbreaking love and sadness. "Mordred! I love…" My world went completely white, cutting off my declaration, but not before I saw Arthur Pendragon round the bend in the path at the head of a patrol. Not before I saw his eyes widen at the dragon and at the injured Mordred at my feet. Not before I saw his gaze land on the faint image that was me. Not before I saw his lips form my name - and then a shocked 'oh' as I disappeared completely from sight and from his world._

* * *

 _All I remember from the plane ride home is this thought: "Oh my fucking God!" on repeat._

* * *

 _ **Ten Months (according to Twenty-first Century time) Later:**_

 _I woke up with a gasp, panting heavily. Everything immediately felt off, felt different, felt wrong. As I looked around, it became clear that I had returned from my most recent, months-long time in Camelot. It had been more than four months since I'd last been in Camelot, and, needless to say, I had been going more than a little stir-crazy. However, when I'd gone to bed after a trying Wednesday at school, the last thing I had expected was to wake up in that forest. This time in Camelot had been my longest yet, perhaps to make up for the long separation, and had been full of more happiness than I could remember as Arthur and Merlin worked to repeal the laws on magic (unfortunately, not everyone in the kingdom had come around to Merlin's, Mordred's, mine, and many others who had come forward's magic as quickly as Arthur had – eventually…) Something inside me quaked at that memory – returning home after our unintentional magic reveal, the plane ride home, not knowing if Mordred and Merlin and Aithusa were alright or not…_

 _I took a gulp of stale air, trying to calm myself. This return was not that instance, nor was it fraught with angst like the very first time I'd come back to this time._

 _The last thing I remembered before awaking here was being in the clearing, training with Merlin and Mordred while Arthur and Leon watched and then…I put my head in my hands, feeling a headache coming on as I struggled to recall (headaches were not uncommon when I returned, especially as my magic had to adjust). This, however, was more of a sharp pain than I was used to._

' _You were training with Merlin and Mordred. Arthur and Leon were over there…' I whimpered as I suddenly remembered. An arrow, coming from somewhere in the trees, had lodged itself in Merlin's side…I shook my head, remembering with a terrible clarity how the men had all jumped up to fight, how the attackers had flooded the clearing, how I'd stood over Merlin, everything iced over with panic, until that panic had turned to pure rage. Things had finally been alright in Camelot and now Merlin… I remembered the pull, the coursing in my veins of my magic, how I called on every ounce of it and had thrown at least five of the ten bandits back…I remembered Leon, Arthur, and Mordred quickly dispatching the other half, and then…nothing. I must have passed out from the overexertion. And now I was back._

 _Unlike every other time when I woke back up in my own bed, I felt jazzed and wired, alert and sharp. I could feel my magic flowing with a power I usually didn't feel in this time, and I wondered if that was the reason why. Abruptly, and with an acute_ _agony_ _, I felt a tug in my stomach, worry for Merlin mingling with Mordred's presumed worry for me. I imagined Mordred or Gaius coming in to check on me, unconscious on the bench in Gaius' chambers, only to find me not there…my magic sparked and flared under my skin. Thanks to my new training, I managed to keep it from lashing out and exploding my lamp or some shit like that._

 _I sat up, and – warily - turned my lamp on, then my phone, checking date and time. According to my cellular device, I'd only been asleep for about an hour. It wasn't even 11:30 yet! I smirked, then winced, hoping I would be able to fall asleep with my magical undercurrent acting up. It was a school night, after all._

 _With a sigh, I decided to get up and pour a glass of water, because my mouth tasted like something had died in it. As I stood up, however, the whole world reeled and bucked. Colours swam, even though everything was the muted blue-black of late night._

 _Woah. Was this what it felt like to be high? Or drunk? My magic was fizzing under my skin like crazy, like little fireworks or those fizzy candies that popped like popcorn when you put them in your mouth. I'd never felt like this before, especially in my own time. But this was not the first time my magic had been weird, and I supposed it wouldn't be the last._

 _No one really understood how or why I had magic; even Merlin, Gaius, and Kilgharrah were stumped. Both Merlin and the dragon agreed they could sense it within me, but Kilgharrah assured me that, in most cases, dragons could even sense when people had the potential to practice magic, and he had sensed no such thing when he'd first met me. But that wasn't all…I could perform it at home too. I never did very often, it was unstable and relatively weak here, but I could do it all the same. And Mordred had told me that whenever I did perform a spell or incantation, he knew. Even if I did so in the Twenty-first Century, he knew._

 _I shook my head, my thoughts swirling a million times faster than usual, and decided on one thing. Before anything else happened, I had to expel some of this power while I could still control it. I whispered, "Forbearnan," and watched as the world went gold, and a rather substantial flame formed on my palm. Some of the fizz and my disorientation died down, so I decided to see how long I could keep this large flame burning. I felt like I could have maintained it all night, but magic tired one out quickly._

 _I was so intently focused on my flame in my hand, and on my magical undercurrent, that I didn't hear the door open before it was too late._

" _Bailey? I heard you crying out, is everything…" Shit. We both froze the instant we made eye-contact, my brother and I. Colin blinked at me, at the fire casting weird shadows all around the room, and took half a step back. In my panic, my magic contracted into the core I had felt in the very beginning of this all with Morgana, and the flame was extinguished. Colin stood in the doorway, hand still holding the knob. Silently, I walked over, removed his hand from it, and closed the door with an authoritative click. I felt everything except authoritative. I realized what I had to do now, the only thing I could do, and I was the strangest mixture of relieved and excited and despondent._

" _Wh…? What did you…? How…?" I took my brother's hand and sat him down on my tiny bed._

" _First of all, none of you would have believed me if I'd tried to tell you earlier."_

" _Bailey, what are you…"_

 _My eyes flashed gold, and once again the flame appeared, though much tinier this time, effectively cutting his question off mid-sentence._

 _I continued, watching the flame twist like a dancer in my palm, "It might be a little easier to explain now though."_

* * *

 ** _*_ Line from Wicked, Act 1, Scene 2**

 ****I don't really remember the dragons clawing anyone or injuring anyone, but who wouldn't be injured if they came into contact with dragon claws?**

 **And that, my lovely, lovely readers, is a wrap on this chapter, and on Bailey and Mordred pretty much. First of all, I realized I forgot to thank Chinaza837 for the favourite as well as the follow, and I feel atrocious for that. I am so so sorry! Second of all, I must apologize to all of you for the blatant cliffhanger and the very long wait...the fight/chase with Aithusa was incredibly hard for me to write, and I fervently hope it is ok. And thirdly, this whole chapter is very different than I envisioned it. I hope its up to snuff; I really should edit it more but I swore I'd get it up today and its past midnight so...Also, I fixed the small errors at the end of the last chapter as well.**

 **Ok. Now that that's all taken care of...the next chapter is THE LAST CHAPTER. It's essentially an epilogue, though it takes place before any of this happened. So...a prologue...at the end? Anyway, thank you so so much, all of you, for reading and reviewing and following me on this journey. It has been totally awesome (wink) in ways I could never have imagined.**

 **I will do my utter best to get this last chapter uploaded faster. Until then, have awesome lives!**


	16. The Epilogue From the Beginning

**Before anything else happens, I HAVE to say a million and one thank yous to Celinarose, for the follows and the favourites and all the kind words. I'm so sorry you found this just as it is wrapping up! Also to sudi.b for the favourite, and Bluejayway123 and rach2322. I'm so sorry that I didn't thank you last two earlier; I'm not getting alerts for favs and follows sometimes, so I have to rely on my checking, which is not a good thing to rely on! Again, so sorry!**

* * *

 _The Epilogue from the Beginning_

 _ **\- A time before Bailey, her mom, and her brother were even considering a trip to London –**_

 _The garden was dark and still._

 _It always was, for there was no moon or sun to light this world-between-worlds. It was always permanently dusky, the shadows permanently long, and the sky permanently tinged pink and purple. It had always been thus, since the dawning of time._

 _The garden's only real sources of light were a semi-circle of pools dug into the ground and filled to over-lapping with moonlight. They tinged the surrounding plants slightly silver with their ethereal luminescence. All were varying sizes, and glowed with varying intensities, the largest and brightest being the pool in the center of the semi-circle._

 _Around this central pool was where they gathered._

" _Well met," the youngest said, nodding to her two older counterparts. They nodded back simultaneously._

" _We shall begin," the Mother declared._

 _The eldest added, "Show us what you wish to show."_

 _The Maiden took a deep breath as her compatriots gathered around the pool. They joined their hands. She was not nervous - they did not get nervous - and she was just as much a part of them as they were of her, so she knew that they were in agreement – as much as they could be at any rate. Still, they had never dared do something of the magnitude of this._

 _The moonlight in the pool they were gathered around shimmered, revealing the world they had the most influence and stake in. It revealed three horses, one carrying two riders, heading back to the city from which the King and Queen on the first horse ruled. The Queen had just been saved from the Priestess' admittedly evil spell, thanks, in part, to the three gathered around the pool. However, it was with the men on the other two horses these three were concerned with._

 _They watched them talk, Emrys and the Druid fated to kill his King, with faces as impassive as they had ever been. Within themselves though, they were not as unfeeling as they would have liked to be. They did not have consciences, the goddess did not have need for such moral guidance, but something in the Maiden stirred as she watched the humans' interaction._

" _We feel it too." The Mother placed a hand protectively over her swollen belly with her statement, as though the child would get agitated at her words and she wanted to protect it. Neither the Maiden nor the Crone said anything. They couldn't deny what she said was true._

 _All three watched until Emrys, along with his King, Queen, and their doom - in the form of a lost, young knight - made it back to the castle. Only then did the Crone dismiss the scene with a flick of her hand._

" _The circle of fate draws to a close once again."_

" _Albion's time of need approaches," the Mother stated. "The Once and Future King's death…"_

" _And Emrys' time of great suffering…" the Maiden interrupted,_

" _Are near," the Crone concluded. All were silent for a long time. The moonlight illuminated their faces, the Crone's waning visage shown through her wrinkled skin, the Mother's fullness illuminated by her plump cheeks, the Maiden's youth and innocence conveyed in her bright eyes and smooth brow._ _She_ _was trying to find it within the depth of her spirit to broach the topic that they all knew had called them here. To begin. To start the solution. Beginnings were her domain after all. This was why it was her duty to bring this about; it had always been this way and always would. This was the nature of things. But, true to_ _her_ _nature, she was hesitant. Such a large change! Even after who knew how many millennia of watching the fated pair of Emrys and the Once and Future King make the same mistakes they always had, after playing the roles she and her other parts had always played for so long with no deviation, the Maiden was wary._

" _It has always been thus," she said._

" _And always will be," the elder two agreed. "Unless…"_

" _Unless we decide to influence change." The Maiden blinked across the pool at the others. "Unless we take it upon ourselves…"_

" _To break the circle…" she met the Mother's gaze as the elder continued her statement._

" _To revert fate…" the Crone finished. The other two nodded, already in agreement about doing something and clamouring to convince the eldest of them all._

" _The time is now…"_

" _We all feel it is right…"_

 _Even the Crone, as traditionally less sentimental than the younger two as she was, could not deny she had grown weary of the pre-destined and eternally continuing world and missteps of Emrys and his king._

 _Still… "We have already passed judgement. He made his choice; as did Emrys."_

" _And how many times have we passed the same judgement?" the Maiden countered. "Emrys, despite the many gifts we bestowed upon him, is still only human."_

" _His protective nature has been riled by what the seers have told him," – and who could argue that someone better understood protection than the Mother? – "He is only doing what he thinks is right because we lead him to believe it was so."_

" _Fate is cruel," the Crone maintained. The Maiden laid her young hand on her elder's arm, and the Mother did the same on the other side with her palm._

" _Fate has been cruel long enough," they declared. The Crone huffed, but she had been won._

 _She said: "The Druid knight is the key. Emrys' distrust was always his own undoing."_

" _The Druid is lonely," the Mother declared, with as fond a tone as part of an ancient goddess could muster towards a human._

 _The Maiden could see and feel that as well. "Perhaps he needs someone…" but she stopped, as they all recalled what happened when his only love returned to Camelot._

 _The Mother picked up the thread: "Someone who will care for him as much as he cares for them…" Again, more memories of the ill-fated Druid and his ill-fated love struck all of them._

 _The Crone watched them muse for a while longer, enjoying knowing the answer and watching them puzzle it out._

 _Finally, she stepped forward (they had migrated away from the pool). Her sharp eyes missed nothing as the Maiden exclaimed: "We have checked time and time again! There are none who are perfectly compatible with him!"_

 _The Crone smirked. "Not in his world, there are not." She gestured to the many pools behind them beyond the central one. "But there are many worlds out there." Worlds that they had access to through their pools. Of course, there were none that still held as much belief in The Triple Goddess as the realm of Emrys, nor one where she had as much power, but there were still many where there was influence to be had._

 _The Maiden and the Mother rushed to examine the pools, the portals of the other worlds. The Crone watched. In all her infinite experience, she of course knew of the perfect world to seek for the perfect person, but it was great fun to watch her counterparts flounder still. She let them comb through realms of magic, realms of desolation, realms built of words, until she finally cleared her throat, and made her way over to quite a large pool on the outskirts of the semi-circle. It's glow was supremely dim – magic was almost non-existent there, and as a result, their influence in it was very weak, but there was one thing this world had that none of the others did._

 _The Mother instantly understood, and smiled in her lovely way. The Maiden was less understanding._

" _This world?" The others nodded, and drew her over to reveal what they already saw. They flipped through the world, saw people reading and watching tv shows, as well as film and theatre of all sorts. The Maiden's eyes widened as she saw glimpses of realms she recognized being portrayed in these art forms. They came upon someone writing what appeared to be a manuscript of some kind, and, because they were an all-powerful and all-seeing deity, they witnessed a new realm being born before their very eyes._

 _The Maiden repeated, voice full of as much awe as an all-seeing goddess could muster, "This world…"_

" _Is the only world that spawns new worlds and touches upon others," the Mother explained._

" _And that is why it is perfect," the Crone added with a smirk. They then revealed that their realm, the realm they were the God of, Emrys' realm, had leaked into this one before them. This was due to the Once and Future King and his destiny: one day, the worlds would line up when he was reborn, as the land he had begun to build existed in this other world as well (it was inevitable, whenever and however he died, that the worlds would need him again someday and he would be reborn. That was the way of things)._

" _Now, we must locate a person who is compatible with the young knight," the Mother directed. This was no easy task; the Druid knight's magic was almost as mysterious and unique as they came, and to couple people with incompatible magic always lead to tragedy (like his lover from the past). The world required balance, and sought to right the instability whenever people with such magic fell in love and attempted to stay that way. That was how it had always been._

 _This search was also particularly precarious because so few in this world they were scanning through had the capacity for magic, let alone magic itself._

 _But, a being like The Triple Goddess does not require such things as sleep or rest, and so they searched until they found her, the girl to save the Druid knight, incidentally watching none other than the TV show that portrayed his world._

" _Her," the Crone proclaimed, watching the girl bite her lip at what was happening on her screen._

 _The Mother gasped. "She's…"_

" _Perfect," the Maiden surmised. And she was. Just similar enough to the knight that they would feel a kinship, just unique and certain enough to compliment him, and both just lonely enough to fill the void in each other's hearts. And it certainly didn't hurt that she already related to him from her exposure to his world. The cherry on top, however, was that she was like no other mortal they'd ever experienced in terms of magic. There wasn't a single magical particle in her, potentially or otherwise, but there was nothing in her that combated magic either (believe you me, there were humans aplenty with such inner workings – the goddess is looking at you, Uther Pendragon). This girl could be with the Druid knight, and not have any magic at all, but be compatible with him. It was essentially unheard of._

 _Just to make absolutely sure, however, that she was the right person for the task (as this was not a change even an all-powerful goddess could revert) the three kept careful watch over her as she went about her normal life. Time means nothing to The Triple Goddess, so they watched in anticipation for the perfect moment, while the girl suspected nothing. They were even responsible for planting the idea to travel to the land that the Once and Future King had ruled over so long ago in the girl's mother's head, so as to make it easier to transport the girl when the time came._

 _When the time finally did arrive, it was so perfectly lined up, the three hardly had to do a thing besides freeze time in the girl's world for when she returned._

" _If this works," the Maiden began as they prepared to transport the girl, "if she succeeds, if she and the knight belong together…"_

 _The Mother jumped in: "We may need to gift her with something…"_

" _As a sign of our gratitude." The younger two nodded, as the Crone had said what they had all been thinking._

" _It would, after all, be entirely possible…" the Maiden mused._

" _To present her with magic." The Mother smiled at the other two - they were all in perfect agreement, which wasn't something that occurred easily._

" _If the time ever presents itself, of course," the Crone stipulated._

 _Her younger thirds echoed: "Of course."_

 _All three of them smiled, and the same sets of eyes meeting their other parts, older and younger, across the pool. "Agreed," they intoned._

 _And then, the Triple Goddess, the White Goddess, the deity of the Land of Albion, guardian and distributor of magic, all-seeing keeper of many realms, known by many different names throughout the eons, represented by many different things in all mankind's worlds*, raised her three sets of arms, and began chanting._

 _The moonlight of the pool that showed Bailey sleeping in her hotel bed in London began to glow ever brighter, brighter even than the pool that showed the forest outside of Camelot. Brighter than the brightest stars, brighter than the moon in full power, brighter even than the power that resided in one manservant to the Once and Future King. This brightness overflowed the pool, spilling onto the permanently-green grass and moving across it like a shooting star, until it came to the central pool and spilled in. The goddess stopped chanting, and a hush fell over the garden like none ever before. The brightness was gone from both pools; they were back to the way they had always looked._

 _Though there was no wind, the surface of the central pool suddenly rippled, and then, a second later, was unruffled again. In the other pool, the bed Bailey had previously been sleeping on was empty, the clock frozen at 10:32 p.m. The central pool now showed her, in a dress generously provided by the goddess, laying in between the trees of the forest, still sound asleep._

" _You do realize," the Crone croaked, "if this goes well, we shall have to transport her back and forth quite a lot."_

" _If it does go well…" the Mother stroked her belly, and positively grinned when the Maiden added her voice to conclude the statement: "It's a small price to pay."_

 _The Maiden's counterparts began to exit, off to do whatever it was the goddess did when not completely changing the fate of a world, satisfied with their work. She remained watching the girl sleeping in the forest, though she couldn't remain by herself when the other thirds were not present for very long._

 _The first third of the goddess skimmed her finger over the top of the pool, causing the time-jumper to stir in her sleep. Everything and one attuned to the magic of this world would feel the change her presence caused, this the three had known. The Maiden watched as the dragons and the Priestess awake from fitful rest. She watched as the Druid knight almost fell off his horse at the shock of it all. She watched Emrys grip the reins of his mount, knowing he felt it the most and knowing that he was prepared, having seen glimpses of what was to come (sent thanks to the goddess of course). The Maiden then turned her attention back to Bailey, still fast asleep on the forest floor._

 _She bent close to the image of the girl, whispering, "Change the knight's fate, young Bailey. Open his and Emrys' eyes to their mistakes. Alter the circle of fate. It has been foretold and has ended in tragedy for far too long. But most of all," the Maiden straightened, golden eyes flashing in the moonlight from the pool, "bring magic back to our land."_

 _And as you well know, Bailey would do just that._

 _ **The End**_

* * *

 **Alright my friends. We have come to the end of the line.**

 **So, I really only scratched the barest surface with my research for this chapter, but, to give some explanation, the concept of a single goddess (the Triple Goddess) is mainly a Neopagan and Wiccan concept. This goddess represents the female essence in three parts: the Maiden - a young woman/girl not yet awakened, dealing in beginnings and ideas and enthusiasm. This is also associated with the waxing phase of the moon, and with the Id of Freudian theory. The Mother is all about fertility, abundance and growth, and the gaining of knowledge. She is represented by the full moon, as she is all about fulfillment, as well as spring and summer seasons, and the Ego. The Crone is the final aspect, the wise woman, darkness, and eventually death. She is represented by the waning moon, as well as winter and the Superego (higher reason and intelligence). There is also sometimes a fourth part, between Maiden and Mother, called the Enchantress. I'm not sure if you wanted that much info, but there you go!**

 **I had the idea for this because from the show and Merlin Wikia, this goddess is the God, the ruling deity of the land, and I figured who else but a goddess would be powerful enough to do this, or want to?**

 ***I made up every name said here besides the Triple Goddess, the White Goddess, and the deity of Albion.**

 **Also, just a word about how I pretty much glossed over the unintentional magic reveal in the last chapter and Arthur's reaction: I never set out to write a reveal fic, but I realized later on that if Arthur did not find out, everything Bailey had changed would basically be redundant to some degree. So he found out, but I didn't feel the need to go into depth. It's enough for me that there's a happy ending where Bailey has Mordred and Merlin has Arthur. But, who knows? Maybe I'll feel like writing how that reveal went down some day!**

 **So yes, this story is done, but I'm not quite sure if I'm done with Bailey and Mordred. I can't get them out of my head - I mean they've been there for so long! I can't promise anything, because school is starting up in three days and I have auditions and all sorts of shit to do, as well as a million other oneshot ideas bouncing around in my head. But! If you're at all interested in seeing more, let me know. I have a few ideas for little spin-offs, but I'd love to hear from you if you're so inclined!**

 **And so my wonderful, wonderful readers, this is farewell to this story. I'm so sorry for the long author's spiel...**

 **Thank you. To everyone I've already thanked by name, for following and favouriting and reviewing, and to everyone I HAVEN'T thanked by name. This has and does mean the world to me, and it means the world that you have read and followed a long.**

 **A million kisses and blessings to ALL OF YOU!**

 **Until next time!**

 **MusicalsandMordred**


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